Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Where one begins

We are the messengers

of our own fate weave.

I find my hands

are your wings forming.

Your eyes

are my lighted tunnels’ end.

We are so statues of personality

yet reflective

of an effortless inner glow.

I affirm your mystery

as my inspiration.

Your voice shares me

with your soul.

Earth’s manners will teach us

soil’s selfless joy

and in return

we as one may regain.

I do not wonder

what emptiness will say

for the emptier I am

the fuller we are to me.

Do not find me way

find me . . . means you

that is all that I care.

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