The Joy of Your Love

Ecstasy of the heart

My hands
stretched wide
could only hold
the tip of your love
You fill my limbs
my flesh,
my deepest soul
I am rolling down
a grassy slope
in springtime.
The sun beats down.
I am blinded, laughing, tumbling.
How sweet the smell of flowers.
How sweet your nectar
How joyous the surge that rushes
through my veins.
How can I bear to live
when I might die of joy?
God must love me;
He has given me you.

A poem by Pemba Umoja