It's true that being in favour or out of favour with love can cause the world to alter its appearance around the lover...
When in love, the world shines with colour:
Autumn’s falling leaf is repeatedly bathed green,
Where its track reminds of new beginnings;
With the spark of heady air comes freedom –
Love encourages thus.
In the place of former tumult happens support,
A face once scorning is laughing anew.
That pathway and its stones have changed,
From beaten rough to the epitome of respect.
It is soft in this serenity of the open mind,
Eyes to watch the inner trespasses,
Pupils in pink to see what the outer world denies –
And happiness negates the tougher streets.
In opposing state, that world is torn from pleasant view,
There the temper crumbles with more ferocity:
Far from the blanket sky of passivity,
The absence of love is struck with lightning,
Where a broken soul has no direction:
Each snowflake hurtles with destructive menace,
Ever augmenting the flood – which pours in vain.
Nothing can be changed by redirecting hope;
Instead, those trees ahead are full of branches,
Fingernails to scratch out the last joy
And twisted spindles rising ever higher,
Always clawing to the endless haze
That is the endless, missing universe.
The isle of contentment is permeable to emotion,
Ever shifting with whatever coming storm;
When one haze is shattered, the other burns.
In one hand, the way is poured and pressed,
In the other, it is the jewel set –
Love relies on this crown;
Without it, the interpretation is scrap,
Metal entwined with a savage disregard,
This is the hated centrepiece exactly.
However, shapes can be seen through the mist;
A soul remade is painted white for another life.
It, through gaunt eyes, can be altered
When those gracious signs of love are reborn.
In this way, the seasons bow to love.