Love is like an infection. Once infected with love for the divine, The more it spreads, This is the most healthy infection of all. Those who are not infected, Are the ones who are sick. It is malignant and the infection itself is the cure. It spreads from the sweet words of the ear, To the peaceful vision of the eyes, To the nectar speech of the tongue, To the humble action of the hands, And to the warmness of devotion of the heart. Divine love has no bars, Of Caste, creed, race, religion, Of rich or poor. It is a gift that is bestowed in abundance to all. You are now suffering >From the sickness of "Myness." Turn this "Myness" to "Ourness." Nothing truly belongs to you. All relationships end, All possessions wither, All egos are trampled, All worldly riches are expendable, Except for the riches I have come to give, Of Divine Love, Your true nature and your only treasure.
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