What is love if it be not sensed, confirmed by touch
seen by eye, heard by ear, or declared by voice?
Can it be a dream of intention wanting fulfillment
or known only in the pain of parting?
In the still of night when you wake
unsure of self it is a need you cannot name
a causal bond deeper than desire
of purpose you cannot describe.
Love is like a star exploding
you cannot count or name its parts
it will not be possessed
has many faces, moves and changes
and should you forgo or forget
It be not love, for love is timeless.
Lives in the moment of giving
and invokes all forms of life.
©Tony Ashenden 2025

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