The Fruit is Ripe (sometimes).

Love could be knowing you are the thing that shakes someone's tree. And seeing that their tree shakes upon various winds, and not batting an eye, a little here and there, its ok to you. You understand, you breathe easy.  Knowing, deep down, to the deepest roots, you are the one that shakes that tree the most.. You are the one that makes the fruits fall, heavy and full, from it's limbs.

That is love. Watching the tree sway in the wind, knowing that wind always passes, but you, down deep at the roots, you never leave. You never leave. You shake and shake, when the time is right, and the fruit falls and falls. When the storm comes and goes, you are there, holding that tree in place. The fruit is ripe, sometimes. (and sometimes it's hard)