Love Isn’t Quantifiable

When God sees a tree
She does not think 
Wow that majestic oak!
Wow those magnificent cherry blossoms! 

She is and knows only Love
Not a majestic love
Not a magnificent love
Just Love and it is Everything 

Not us, we label and measure
Paris is better than Rome
Green eyes are prettier than brown
This music is better than that

Love filtered through the senses
Love filtered through the mind
Love spoken with words
However magical--is not Her Love

Yet, paradoxically, it is all Her 
But we qualify and quantify
And with our little dualistic minds
We see things as "other"

Other than Love
Other than ourselves
Other than God
And it is okay

Because no matter
How we split it
Our heart, soul knows
What the mind can't grasp

The stillness of Love
The emptiness of Love
The contentment of Love
The peace of Love

Even this storyteller 
Is struck speechless
In Her presence
In Her Love

And thus this poem ends...