Cosmic Love Is a Gate

There is a gate in the soul

where horses wait,

where fire does not burn but blesses.

You stood there once,

with your eyes full of centuries.

You said,

I will find you in every age.

And you did.

In the ache of a child’s first breath,

in the grief of a mother’s last prayer,

in the ink of this poem.

Cosmic love does not forget.

It folds memory into light

and rides it home.