Deep like oceans
Flowing like rivers
Falling like leaves
And growing like trees
     Running like the animals atop the earth
     Sounding like horns on the holy night
     And burning like the sun in the summer sky
          True like the words the apostles did speak
          And round like the earth with its edges beneath
               Stained like ink
               And pressed like books
               And tested like an automobile which looks
               Like Christmas morning gifted to man
                    Like the clattering of pots and pans
                    And the soothing touch of a mothers hand
                         Like this, like that
                         Is what love is to me
                              But what love is for you
                              May still yet to be seen

How dare he, discover these:

     The intimacy before its time
     The constant revelations
     Untangling and revealing themselves
     Slowly over the course of passing time

How jealous still at last am I?
To be on the outside looking in
Wishing that I could be within
For the discovery of such things in mind