Love.
Love is graciously
patient with another soul,
kindhearted in all
the movements of its hands
and words.
The green root
of envious feeling
does not colour its deeds.
Empty phrases of forecful validation,
proof of self's worth,
never burn within.
The heart of love is not only gentle,
but also humble;
seeking the other,
not its own pursuits.
It longs
always reaching out;
not expecting to be sought,
but to seek.
Love is not unneccessarily
harsh or brash,
with the precious closeness
of another being.
The spark of anger
is always
quenched
before the setting of the sun.
The record of past wrongs
does not trouble
the thoughts of Love,
they are buried deep
within the waters
of forgetfulness.
Love's eyes are full
of Truth.
And it is delighted in this holiness.
The vulnerable are protected
withing Love's strong
and steady
shelter.
Open-armed embrace.
It trusts
in the strenght of joy
which fills its being
with Hope,
and the faithful perseverence
of grace.
Love is gloriously triumphant.
He never fails.
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