I am not a poet but the thoughts about you are poetry.

Your soul is within
The universe is without
Both are infinite

It’s obvious why we tend to become stuck on the details
And I mean “when”
It’s no surprise it’s through the surface
That we explain what can’t be seen
Yet can be eyed by heightened senses
The softest to know, the hardest to describe
It’s not a place, that knowledge, but “a” time