They say love is blind.
Who are they, but the blind ones.
How can they say?
When they know not of what they speak.
A corrupt heart is a dead heart.
How can the dead speak?
Love is alive.
Love is for the living.
The seekers and the finders.
The finders are the keepers.
It is on them that love shines so bright.
Their hearts expand.
Giving breath to love.
As love breathes, love spreads,
Love is not blind.
Nor does it blind.
Love is sight where there was none.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY