Like flowers love to reach for the sun,
and bees love to gather the pollen and nectar,
to make it into something sweet.
Like the simple perfection in the golden stickiness of honey,
Like that honey spread on toast
by grandfathers who share it with their grandsons
and the smile between them that is sun-honey-bee golden too,
there is love and the simple pleasure of being alive.
From flowers to smiles,
the way these things love and are loved,
that's how I love him.