Love

Is Love like water trickling in a stream?

Up from the ground it gurgles like a thread,

A slim course creeping over a sapless bed

Of rocks rough and unyielding (so they seem).

Could Love be like a shining white light beam?

Unbent, unswerving, bright, it speeds ahead

Until a three-planed prism brakes its tread;

The glass then rends in two the radiant gleam.

Yet over years the water, like a blade,

Cleaves clean through rock; and from the broken light

All hues which in the universe were made

Display unhampered to the awestruck eye.

Thus triumph both the light and the cascade,

For they are Love, and Love can never die.