Love's Mysteries

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Love stirs within the heart a tempest wild,
Its nature none can fully trace or name.
With trembling limbs and thoughts that fly untamed,
Its grip on reason cannot be beguiled.
In icy hands and stomach butterflies,
By swiftened pulse and faltering of speech,
Its hold o'er mortal flesh none can impeach—
Its power beyond what logic understands or eyes.
hrough winter storms and summer's warmest rays,
Autumn's fall and spring's new greens that burst,
Love works its season on the soul immersed,
In forms eternal though its signs may change always.
A feeling strange yet familiar as our breath,
Love bonds our lives, yet mocks our grasp in death.