The perfection behind heaven gates..

A little child plays at the garden and tenderly buries a dead butterfly, not because he understands the mystery of Death, but because Love prompted the action. 
And so we love without knowing the why and the wherefore. Love can only be compared with Love. There is nothing else to compare it with.
We do not love a woman merely because she is pretty, possesses a pleasing mannerism, We love her because, in an indescribable way, she sings a song, we alone can fully understand, a voice that lifts up our soul and makes it strong.
We follow, we follow that Invisible figure, that invisible bond from land to land, from heart to heart, from death into Life, on and on.. until our last breath, 
When Love loves Love for its own sake, when the self is dead, we shall meet again. We shall find the Beloved to be the one who finally found perfection behind heaven gates..
Yes no one has seen love, because no one has seen God, yet as I'm sure I'll meet him in heaven, I'm sure I'll meet you there.