she lights a candle thinking of the one she lost, and other ones along the way the twisting way that flows from love, and leads to love. she listens to the mourning dove across the river, plaintively at glowing end of somber day: it's all from love, it ends in love. the world within, below, above: the tears of grief that noiseless fall, but in their silence seem to say this flows from love, this all is love.