Love is much deeper than we may conceive,
We may become channels that flow endlessly,
We can’t avoid feeling,
Denying our tears,
Pretending we’re careless,
Throughout all our years,
As old ones sure leave us,
And those we held dear,
New ones will join us,
And they we hold near,
As the student is ready,
The teacher appears,
And love removes mountains,
Forgiving our fears,
We’re all in this cycle of love which we learn,
And all of our carnal desires must we burn,
We all yearn for freedom to let us fly higher,
Liberating our souls of this burning desire.
Love-ly.
Love-ly.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "