No words can describe what we are
And yet, Love seems to reach out (and in)
To experience its Beingness..
So tender, so sweet
Even the tears refresh
What needs no cleansing..
Nothing is needed
And what is
Can only be This,
Right here, right now..
Somehow it's just right this way
The only way,
The way which cannot be circumvented,
The way that moves the "you" and the "me"..
And who's feet can avoid this path ?
And who can say that This, in any form, should not be ?