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LOVE'S SUPREME : SONNET 45

Now on your head does fall the rain of boulders -
In tolls, denials, or pitiless tirade;
Then in beatifying love do breathe the showers
Of petals singing balmy serenade. 
In pleasure you rejoice and buckle in pain 
As through the Chequer does your life go on -
Being held 'long crisscrossing of loss and gain -
By brace of love for something or for someone. 
And love that holds your life may be as best
As you or as unwarranted as you
But love for life and life for love are blest
Together and than God more pure, more true.
There's a supreme soul in each one who loves,
And each supreme soul is dearer than Heaven's troves.

-- N. P. SAMAL, POET, AUTHOR, ACADEMIC 


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