I Love You,
not only for what you are,
but for what I am
when I am with you
I Love You,
not only for what
you have made of yourself,
but for what
you are making of me.
I Love You,
for the part of me
that you bring out;
I Love You,
for putting your hand
into my heaped-up heart
and passing over
all the foolish, weak things
that you can't help
dimly seein there
and for drawing out
into the light
all the beautiful belongings
that no one else had looked
quite far enough to find.
I Love You
because you
are helping me to make
of the lumber of my life
not a tavern
but a temple;
out of the works
of my everyday
not a reproach
but a song.
I Love You
because you have done
more than any creed
could have done
to make me good
and more than any fate
could have done
to make me happy.
You have done it.
Without a touch,
without a word,
without a sign.
You have done it
by being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After All.
