The lover is a creator:
he gathers words, looks, thoughs,
and pulls them through his heart
into deeds.
His love is like glass:
translucently strong, hot and liquid,
or cool and clearly solid
when molded into rainbowed beams.
His look is light:
it illuminates, reveals, shines like fire,
scatters darkness to fill the void with brightness,
making glowing what once was dimly hid.
For love is a wonder:
redeeming pleasure, deep-lit smiles,
renewing forgiven faults, and
casting off and burning old ways.
It once sees all,
then, seeing, sends to frozen universe' end
the dross,
keeping in glazen brazen jeweled frames
the picture of the good,
of delightful beauty.
Love makes pleasure and joy of all.
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