On Love

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto

himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred

fire, that you may become sacred bread for

God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you

that you may know the secrets of your

heart, and in that knowledge become a

fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only

love’s peace and love’s pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover

your nakedness and pass out of love’s

threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you

shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,

and weep, but not all of your tears.