The Soul Poet

When Light is The Poet,
And life is the prose,
Years seem to vanish,
With the life it composed,
Then life blossoms fully,
In the absence of soul.

When Life is The Poet,
And days are the prose,
Hours that rhyme,
With lifetimes composed,
The passage unknown,
By the actors own soul.

When Love is The Poet,
And Hearts are the prose,
Life is forever,
And Light surely glows,
The Poet reflects
The soul, Surely Grows.