Love Made Me Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

Love made me shy when I wanted to sing
like bird song sonata with golden hue.
Love made me soar on the happiest wing
on grand sails of splendor through sapphire blue.

Love made me bliss like a new morning flame
like fingertips touching the hand of day.
Love made me bloom when you whispered my name
pressing my petals in pleasure to lay.

Love made me reflect upon every word
like a willow with sleeves in the river.
Love made me listen and listening heard
light strings of rain that made the leaves shiver.

Love made me fall like the folds of a gown
or the unbraiding of Rapunzel's hair.
Love made me soft as a feather in down
or the sound of silence when snow falls fair.

Love made me spill all my secrets to tell
like the rapids of a waterfall vein.
Love made me blush like a rose in the dell
plucked by the wind in a zither of rain.

Love made me cling like a moth to the moon
or bottle-green moss in a forest square.
Love made me sweet as a meadow in June
whose fragrant flowers are scenting the air.

Love made me more than I thought I could be
and made me wish I was perfect for you.
Love made me silk like the silk of the sea
whose dreaming dampness was channeled for two.

Love made me drown in a backwash of tears
as if a thundercloud burst in my breast.
Love made me shoulder its shadow for years
like Atlas holding the sky in the west.

Love made me leave when I wanted to stay,
and my heart hemorrhaged on blades of grass.
Love made me waver as I crawled away,
and your silence shattered like shards of glass.

Love made me curl into bittersweet cry
like autumn leaves huddled in patchwork heaps.
Love made me still, with a yearning to fly,
like a child dreaming whenever she sleeps.

Love made me whole, and it made me divine.
Love encased butterflies within my heart.
Love made me weak; yet, it strengthened my spine
when the harvest moon dimmed its light to part.

Love made me turn for a moment undone,
halting in the hope of a sign from you.
Love made me numb as you set for the sun
knowing the sun would soon set in me too.

Love made me new as a garden in spring
or a river-washed range of desert sky.
Love made me a pen, whose point is to sing,
to tug loose the tears that wade in the eye.

Love made me a cloud to rain in my soul,
to drink in the ink of the ocean's swell.
Love made me a petal and petiole
to rise in glory before glory fell.