Within a silent look, a momentary stare,
Gentle, pure and aware, glowing love appears.
It is love that is clear in this awkward mystery.
Brief joy and illusive happiness are masks,
Mere glass that by hand have the face of a jewel.
They are but qualities of the genuine facet.
Love at once will ripe and tear at your heart,
And lift you high above this tragedy,
It wants of no improvement or fine sculpturing.
Among the stormy treacheries of life it shines,
But rain and the darkened tempest cloud us,
When we inquire, in stillness, what is the aim.
Love whispers too soft for some to hear.