Anoucheka Gangabissoon writes

Love Is

Love is a butterfly,

Made of imperfect beauty

Needing the cuddling arms of Life

Hovering always

Over its own purity!

Love is a tree

Having birthed as a seedling,

Rooting and encrusting itself,

Growing to be an edifice

Much needed and greedily admired

For its grandiosity!

Love is a poem

Made of deep feelings

Inhabited by mysticism,

It writes of itself

It reads of itself

And speaks of itself

Knowing that its aim

Is to be so moving

As to create tidal waves 

In the hearts of humankind!

Love is a river

Crystal clear and pure

Gurgling always towards the ocean

Knowing that the latter remains its home,

Even if it keeps itself focused

On what is coming ahead,

Allowing itself not to be bothered

By what is left behind in the past!

Love is intuition 

As whispered it is to us

In those dreams we have 

In the depth of the night

Meant to set us on our fate chosen path

So as to be allowed to be graced

Back to the state of divinity!

Love is beautiful

It happens everyday:

When the lover chooses to stick to his feelings,

Or when the wife chooses to let go of her crown

Merely to kneel in front of her husband,

Or when the maiden abides to her own strict purity

Merely to keep herself for her lover!

Why,

Love,

Is not about loving oneself,

Rather,

Love,

Is being able to forsake oneself so as

To please the other!

Love, then,

Becomes a divine sacrifice,

Which when done,

Causes stars to dance while the moon sings

All under the enraptured gaze of the Gods,

Who remain breathless

And victorious

As They know that with Love,

Existence blooms to its peak!