poetry & things

Of love

I will see you in the field of days

in the blue or grey of thundering storms

though wild rivers change course

and I lose ground, you steadfast remain

you are the rousing dawn of birdsong

the silver sun of white light flashing

you are the wind, a whisper, a kiss

upon my face, that lifts my sullen eyes

all the tears, your infinite ocean washes away

and I am left upon the shore, where only love remains

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