The seeds we so happily sowed,
And the long-awaited sunrise
Retreats into a backroom of clouds,
There would be nothing left to learn.
We would still be alone and gated,
No wind would ever have ever glided
Through our lungs,
No rough torrent would ever rock
The foundations of our hearts.
Roots that reach deep
Into the softness of dirt
Would never reach a hidden spring,
If such a place existed.
Fortunately we met, we do meet,
All we’ll do is meet and meet again.
No comments:
Post a Comment