Love

I love the feel of the piano under my fingers.

I love the sound it makes as I or anyone else plays a melody.

I love the feel of mallets in my hand as I play keyboard percussion.

I love singing soprano I and the freeness I feel as I soar into the high notes.

I love singing soprano II and realizing that, yes, even I can sing harmony.

I love singing to be singing — a song that’s just stuck in my head waiting to be released.

I love music, not just for the way it sounds — but for the way it makes me feel.

I love the smell of books (old and new) as I turn pages.

I love the suspense of a good story and the feeling that I, too, might be a character.

I love how a book creates reality and helps you escape your own.

I love the adventures of a quest and the realization that books teach us about our own lives.

I love the satisfaction and resolution a good ending brings to a book.

I love reading, not just for the pleasure of words — but for the sense of identity I find in the stories.

I love words and thoughts.

I love the sound and the rhythm of a well-crafted sentence.

I love creating poetry and stories because with these writings, I share part of my soul.

I love the sound of the typewriter as I share not just useless trivia, but who I am as well.

I love the feeling of a muse as you discover you’re writing something absolutely wonderful, but you can’t explain the “how” or the “why” of the piece.

I love writing, not just for its ability to communicate — but for its ability to open my heart to freedom, to love, and to joy.

I love the sound of a child’s laugh.

I love the sound of child-like chatter, of play, and of carefree afternoons.

I love making a child feel special and important.

I love helping a child find his way in this confusing and, sometimes, unfriendly world.

I love helping a child realize it’s okay to be unique.

I love teaching children, not just for the sake of mentoring — but for the simple things children give to me — the feeling of life, the feeling of happiness, and the feeling that I, too, am learning how to make a difference.

I love singing in the car.
I love laughing until my insides hurt.

I love knowing what someone else is thinking.

I love inside jokes.

I love games and random trips to movies or stores.

I love telephone calls and letters of those you love.

I love smiling for no reason except that you’re truly happy.

I love sharing secrets, life stories, and randomness.

I love keeping in touch and talking with those whom you rarely see.

I love the feeling of hanging out with those whom you love — even though neither of you actually know what you plan on doing for the rest of the day.

I love friendship, not just for the people you meet, know, and love — but for the feeling that these people are a gift from God to make your world a better place.

I love traditions and holidays.

I love the smell of home and the feeling of safety.

I love the feeling of closeness.

I love the feeling that no matter what happens or what you’ve done, you’ll always have a place to call home.

I love coming home and smelling something in the oven and rejoicing because Mom actually cooked.

I love knowing that these people are the ones I will always be with no matter where life takes me.

I love family, not just for the happy moments we’ve shared — but for the things we’ve taught each other as we rely on each other in the good and the bad.

I love talking to Him.

I love waiting in the quiet.

I love the feeling of security and warmth.

I love the whisper of His voice.

I love the reading of His book.

I love learning from Him.

I love feeling His presence.

I love watching Him work even though I can’t always see very well.

I love His gifts and surprises, for He knows what’s best for me.

I love the things He created and the feeling that He created me.

I love knowing that He is our love, our light, our truth, and our way.

I love knowing that He’s my beginning as well as my end.

I love knowing He’s my father, my friend, my brother, my teacher, my savior, and my Lord.

I love knowing He watches over me and holds me in His hands.

I love knowing He prays for me even when I pray to Him.

I love praising Him and loving Him even though what I give Him is nothing compared to what I receive.

I love God, not just for what He’s done — but for whom He is.

This poem was originally published in the Norris Bulletin, a local newspaper in Norris, Tennessee, and has also been published as an adapted poetry book on Tar Heel Reader.Org.