What is love

"Love is the greatest thing," the poet said;
But I looked back at him and shook my head.
"Love?" I questioned.   "What is love?" I asked.
He looked at me.   His look seemed quite perplexed.

"Why, love," he answered, "Is the heart of man,
Seeking what he most desires where'er he can;
And caring for this thing beyond himself,
Regardless of its state, its poverty or health."

"Such love is what can make a life complete,
Fulfilment of the very heart of man.
Without it there is nothing.   I repeat, 
Love is enough.  It ends as it began."

I doubted and remained still unconvinced;
His argument had no effect on me.
"It seems," I answered, "That you are entranced
And blinded to the things you will not see."

"For love," I said, "is selfish in its aims,
Seeking only what it can possess;
And making too its own egotist claims
On what it says it loves.   This is distress!"

"Not so," the artist then claimed in reply.
The sage added his own answer as well.
"Love only tries to tell us of the why,
The how and what; love really can be hell."

And he expanded on this thought awhile:
"There's hurt in love, rejection, bitter pain,
That can be borne with gentleness and smile,
Knowing at the last it will bring gain."


"The love that dies upon the cross is such;
It carries in itself another's wound.
I warrant that this love will gain so much
As in the world has never yet been found."

I left and spent my time in deepest thought,
Pondering their replies, amazed at what they said;
For I had learned of love which souls had bought
Restoring man to God where Love had bled.


And gazing at an image of the crucified,
I wept for love of the Divine here nailed.
I knew it was for me that He had died,
To pay my debts and gain what God entailed.


This is the only Love.   All others fade and die.
I wish to love like this, to give my life as well.
To share this Love with all I meet, is my reply,
Sharing with them the road away from hell.

A loved one's eyes

A loved one’s eyes.

It is, I think, a lovely thing, and wise

When holding hands or strolling side by side

To smile and gaze into your loved one’s eyes.

And I will tell you something more besides

Those things which only fools have yet defined:

Love is indeed a lovely thing, and wise.

And when you hear a baby’s gentle cries,

Responding to your reassuring chide:

Then smile and gaze into your loved one’s eyes.

The sadness in our hearts, a smile belies,

But by a loved one will not be decried –

Love is indeed a lovely thing, and wise.

Though all the world will wallow in its lies

And laugh at love, or even more, deride:

Still, smile and gaze into your loved one’s eyes.

For in the end we all must recognise

What things to grasp and what to cast aside:

Then know it is a lovely thing and wise,

To smile and gaze into your loved one’s eyes.

Feast of Love

The feast of Love

The cross weeps freely with Love’s holy blood;

Extended arms in violent agonies

Writhe in the anguished pains of death,

Their gift of Love.

A stone stands rolled, unsealing death;

For death is dead and Love at last lives on

To share across the ages God’s new gift,

The gift of Love.

“This is my body, given now in Love;

My blood which wept in death in Love;

My spirit, risen for my Father’s Love,

My shared Love.”

“So share with me, serving each one in Love;

Receive me and I’ll live in you in Love;

Creation will sing out with you and Me

My song of Love.”