Love, gently stirred cannot last.
Hearts raging toward the Truth collide,
Shattering all hard, brittle exteriors and leave them
Rough, brown, dirty
Shattered into brokenness.
Love, gently stirred is not real.
Life, gently stirred does not last.
The soul, as in a tracking beam
Is pulled towards the Great Immutable Maker of all.
Passion longs to speed the drawing towards its Home.
Love, with Passion spent!
Live, with life poured out unto the death!
- 9/27/2001Anna Marie Sheffield