At the end of all rough days I'm always able to find it,Not under my bed with creatures of the night or behind closet doors.Whether up in the sky with birds or upon the ground with the strongest of ants,I know I will find it if I need to. It is what drives a man to the brink of insanity and brings him back with pleasure,What causes a woman to become smitten and hum as she goes about her day.It is the thing that keeps our candle bright and burning to the base of the wick,What may shelter us from storms of sadness and clears our skies of darkness. It can be found anywhere and within anything if you look hard enough,In the teary eyes of a new mother hearing and feeling her baby’s heartbeat.In the pitter patter of ducklings following their parents across a busy road.In the steady and wrinkled grip of a man on the hand of his wife for the last 50 years. This thing is called love. Love takes part in all our days we spend, good and bad.It makes us the most joyful and depressed creatures, and it is wonderful.Love can clear up my day in a matter of minutes or a single glance.Between talking with my father about the world or watching my young neighbor learning to ride a bike… ...I know I'll never be completely lost in a bad day.Love is my happiness and that's how it should be.