Whatever it be

Love conquers,

Not by show of force

But by soft movement,

Gentle allowing

And acceptance,

The truth unveiled

That there never was a thing apart

From love’s flow unbounded.

For a moment the thing:

Form, thought or emotion

Seems separate and real,

But what are borders

To the whole of God

But traces of nothing

Like ripples rippling

Upon the water’s edge,

Occurring but memoryless,

Fading at the very moment they arise.