I love to gaze at the Son of Love,
With eyes that burn and souls that yearn,
His visage is as bright as a heaven-sent dove,
To whom all hearts in fondness turn.
He stands in splendor, bathed in light,
Where darkness once had cast its spell,
And with a whisper soft as air,
He calls my name, and all is well.
The warmth He brings, fills the skies
A canvas vast, a fiery hue,
Each color dances in delight,
As if to sing a tune anew.
My spirit leaps, my body soars,
A symphony of hope and cheer,
A longing deep and a silent cry
To fly towards Him, forever near.
His eyes, gleam with kindness pure,
A sea of love without a shore.
In every beam that shines so bright,
I find myself loving Him so much more.
To fly to Him is not a fleeting thing,
But an eternal dance with grace.
With every flap of the angel's wings
We find our heart's embrace.
To the Son of Love, I will fly
With every beat of a heart's desire.
In my endless quest to be
In union with the sacred fire.