Love

Who can fathom the depth and height
The boundlessness of such a word
Like the endless black of the darkest night
To try to comprehend is absurd.

You can not touch love, it has no form
Yet it stretches out its hand,
And covers the heart in the midst of its storm
Like the rain that covers the land.

Love can not be heard, it's voice will not come
Though the word may spill from our lips,
And puddles they make, that dry up with the sun
And bitterness tightens it's grip.

If we could taste love, or if love had a scent
We would savor the taste and the smell,
The flavor, the fragrance might be refreshment
But how will we ever tell.

What is love, that it can not be seen
Except through the eyes of a child,
Without circumstance, or envious green
In its purest of states, meek and mild.

So how do we treat a word we can not see
With such little regard of our heart,
We handle this gift so carelessly
Though we were made to love at the start.

Consider this word, so small yet so grand
Boundless and endless and free,
Let us give of ourselves, as much as we can
The gift God gave you and me.