There was no epiphany,
no thunder from the skies
that day;
nothing so drama-filled;
it was more a soft release
a settling in;
a peek into your soul
by me,
which said
this person
is the one
I'm with.

It was not Love's Bells ringing
from steeple tops
or rose petal garden paths,
but it is Devotion's Arrow which penetrates deeper still
than the ones Cupid carries.

Devotions shaft
did not pierce,
it did not seek
the penetrations Cupid does
there is no magic potion on the arrow tip;
rather my feathered missile
flew all round you
lifting up the two of us,
forever bound.

Young Lovers face inward
looking into each other eyes,
but Love's Maturity
is these Lovers
facing toward Eternity
side by side.