THE LOVE OF THE SOUL

I'm not aware of eyes or nose;
I'm not so fond of thoughts or form.
What makes me my heart and mind lose
Is that nice creature whose soul's warm.

That creature traps my heart though plain
As my eyes get blind to his shape.
What l care for is one big gain:
My soul with his yearns to escape.

They flee to where no eyes can spot,
Where no ears can hear what they say
And live_ far from the flesh and rot
The greatest joy of endless day.

No flesh can attain that warm glow
When two souls mix and their third's God.
They start their heaven from below
And both go up to upper ground.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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