“When the Love Flows”
He merely had to see her for the freshet of love to begin pouring forth from his heart. His hand would go to her cheek, move irresistibly to her skin, as if in confirmation of the unfolding mystery. With his other hand he would press one of hers, signaling through manual contact the union of their souls. He would kiss her forehead, lightly, delicately, indicating thereby the blessing that she was to him. Everyone else around them disappeared. They existed in that moment alone together. Nothing could be more perfect than that flood of tender love. She was as precious as his baby, as honored as his guru, as respected as his mother. She was the infinite miracle that is woman. And he fully appreciated her divine mystery.