By JH Sayyar
Not bound by flesh, nor drawn to mortal fire,
Thy love, O soul, ascends where angels tread;
It kindles not the heart with vain desire,
But lifts the mind where truth and grace are wed.
No kiss it seeks, no trembling hand to hold,
But silence deep where kindred spirits meet,
Where thoughts, like stars, in quiet night unfold,
And joy is found in reverence, pure and sweet.
Thou art the breath behind each holy prayer,
The light within the dark, the hush in song;
A bond that time, nor death shall rend or wear,
Unseen, yet felt divinely deep and strong.
O love that mirrors heaven's perfect art,
Abide forever in my faithful poor heart.
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