A sonnet of love

When two bodies meet at last, so it seems,

 

It is not matter that vibrates, but souls.

 

The soul is endless; the body, brief as dreams,

 

In this eternal dance, calmness controls.

 

The soul to man remains a mystery deep,

 

It is not our role to try and understand.

 

Perhaps therein lies the error we keep,

 

All wish to possess and hold in their hand.

 

Let us love the bodies, in their dance,

 

Manifesting the ethereal whisper of souls.

 

In the fleeting moment, eternity finds its chance.

 

Let us not be fooled by the illusion of the eternal,

 

For in the brief life, in its tranquil roles,

 

Love reveals its essence, so infernal.