Soul of Love


The soul of love slips through time

As though it were endless.

Of course, it is.

It is infinite in it's course.

It follows beauty to the place of rest.

It tells no tales, but those of truth.

It is everlasting, always pure.

Never does it ask for itself

For it is itself

It is purity.

To embrace that love,

Know but a miniscule portion,

And the rest will grow and be as one.

You are that love;

I am that love.

We together express that love.

It is why we are here;

It is the way of truth.


Nancy Tate