Love is the scent with the lotus born.
It is the silent choirs of petals
Singing the winters harmony of uniform beauty.
Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.
It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets - sun and moon lit
In the skyey hall festooned with fleecy clouds
Around the sovereign Silent Will.
It is the thirst of the rose to drink the sunrays
And blush red with life.
Tis the promptings of the mother earth
To feed her milk to the tender, thirsty roots,
And to nurse all life.
It is the urge of the sun
To keep all things alive.
