By Yasen Vedrin
(Fulfilled Premonitions)
Do not ask Love if it is worth the cost.
For human souls it has no price or chart.
It seems a breath, yet blows like tempests tossed.
It is a tear, yet waves within the heart.
It gleams with sparks – in fleeting moments caught,
But inside flames a roaring fire will expand.
Upon our faces, impressions will be wrought.
With pure delight it silvers hair and strand.
From pieces of mere clay a jar it molds
And inside marble wakes sonnets from the dead.
Our quietest of secrets it unfolds.
Within our brightest prayers it guards our bed.
It stops the minutes, weeks, and rolling years
Into a single, unchangeable, clear call.
And all its spring-like gardens past our tears
We hardly shall walk through with you at all.
Most Sacred in our hearts, resolved to stay,
It shines upon a throne of brilliant light...
Do not ask Love if it is worth the way.
For human souls it has no price or sight.
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