"I don't know if I love you..."

I don't know if I love you.

I don't know what those words mean. 

But I can tell you that you are my sun
that the day does not truly begin until you rise
and the warmth that is like a halo around you beams down on me
and holds my pajama-ed body next to yours.
You are my sun.

I don't know if I love you, but you are my moon.
When night comes
whether it is the darkening of the sky for the entire world  
or just for me as I become
once again
lost in emotions 3, no 4, times my size 
struggling against the waves of my own tears
agitated rapids  
the undertow of the moment pulling me down 
taking me prisoner 
fighting for breath and rights
you, a beacon of light wax bright and steady
guiding me home. 

I don't know if I love you, but you are my tree.
Rich with good things.
Plump fruit in the form of kisses
your palm glides across my head
through my hair. 
You caress my cheeks with your branches.
When the world swirls too fast and loud
I know I can always find shelter at the base of your trunk
and shade under your fronds.
You purify the air around me.
You are my tree. 

I don't know if I love you, but your voice is my song.
There is a place in the deepest part of me
that only your tune can unlock
that only your tune can stir.
When you laugh it's a cool breeze on a sweaty day.
I want another and another
and become a puppet entertainer
doing anything to hear that tinkling giggle.
When you're angry, it's a wintery blizzard.
I feel the chill in my bones and the ice on my face
but then even, I move closer to you for comfort from you. 
When you're sad, it's a quiet low whistle  
and I pull myself into your lap
drawing long ribbons of whatever ails you out through your heart
throwing them down on the floor.

I don't know if I love you
because I've heard others use those words
and since they can't possibly have what we do
they must not be enough.

But in the off chance that I do
since I'm not sure  
it's seems right that I should say it
so, mama
I love you.