it's nice to love you,
    like 2 babies in a crib,
        smiling, playing,
             looking, touching.

               no ideas, no hope or worries;
            no future, no theories;
          no reasons,
       no blame.

a beloved face,
        a delightful sound:
               your voice,
a gentle touch: your skin,
        a soothing warmth:
                your heart.

I see the child in you,
        tender and defenseless;
                I look deeper,
                        and see my soul,
      the soul we share.

It's nice to love you,
    expecting nothing.
Naivete leaves me;
    dreams disperse,
        dew-like.

It’s just me, in my life,
    seeing you, in yours.
Our paths veer
    like mountain roads,
        diverging, colliding;
sometimes touching, gently,
    for a moment or two.

This does not fit in any box I know;
    these moments pop into being, and pass.
There is a flow
    that cannot be followed.
These are our paths,
    not to understand,
        but simply to be open to their grace.

These are blessings beyond reason.
    I accept them.