Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself
But of your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires: To melt and be like a
running brook That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude; And
then to sleep with a prayer For the beloved in
your heart And a song of praise upon your lips.
