Thou art the mystic echo from the caverns of heart, and the inaudible voice of feeling.
Thou unseen charmer of souls, Thou art the fountain flowing from the bosom of friendship.
Thou are the unseen cord of self-bound souls and the rays of secret warmth which break buds of feeling into blossoms of endearing, soulful words of poesy and loyalty.
Thou art the Divine Cupid, enticing mystic souls to pierce the heart of all living things.
Thou art the silent language of souls, and the invisible ink which lovers use to write letters on the pages of their hearts.
Thou art the mother of all affections, and in Thy breast of love throbs the heart of God.
Love is the heart-beat of all life, and the angel of incarnation.
Love is the silent conversation between two hearts, and it is the call of God to all creatures, animate and inanimate, to return to His house of Oneness.
Love is born in the garden of soul progress, and it sleeps behind the darkness of outer attachments. It is the oldest and the sweetest nectar, preserved in the bottle of hearts.
It is the flame which burns all weeds of selfishness, and destroys the walls of family and patriotic narrowness.
It is the light which dissolves all walls between souls, families, and nations.
It is the unfading blossom of pure friendship in the garden of both young and mature souls.
Love is the door to heaven, the complete song of souls.
Love is the echo of God’s voice trying to reverberate through mute stones, through rain, wind, fragrance, vitalizing light and plumed songbirds; it reverberates through the cries and laughter of babies, through unconditioned mother love, and through dumb and articulate hearts.
— From East-West Magazine, August 1932
