He walked with me that day-
The day after the storm,
The day I finally knew
I loved him more than life.

We walked in his world
Through a forest whose trees
Glistened, wet in the sun-
Dripping, sated with fresh rain.

My upturned face welcomed
The heavenly tears
Cleansing those which had scourged
My body only last night.

Now with him beside me
I know I can live again.
He had touched my heart
And so my soul is his.

Like an innocent flower
Petals open to the sun,
I took him within me,
Amazed by his gentle power.

He showed me my own beauty,
Long asleep, now wakened
In the ecstasy of our union-
Whole, beyond complete.

My breath ceased- unneeded
By a body aflame
Melting into the earth
While ascending far above it.

Yet my breath returned
As he released my soul,
Setting me free
To choose him again.

Love- sacred or profane?
Holy or mundane?
There is but one love
Its expressions are infinite.


Love is: “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.  . . . the desire to love is not itself love.  Love is as love does.  Love is an act of will- namely both an intention and an action.  Will also implies choice.  We don’t have to love.  We choose to love.”

—-M. Scott Peck, MD (Psychiatry) in The Road Less Traveled 1978






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