Sunday, May 15, 2011

Spring

A winter of rush dusted away;
the sun is higher and higher
and higher in the sky, everyday.

A different kind of music to my ears.
You too are different, and together,
in a cloudless garden -
we sit and grow.

A bleeding heart before me, but with you,
it is in the ground, buried
and unimaginable this time around.
For reverie is everywhere,
when I see you smile.

No comments:

Post a Comment