As I write down these words
they may come off as solemn vows.
Words are neutral but
inside each one there is life.
They come up and sit right at your side.
Like flowers of differing fragrances
and raindrops dripping from a rail
where an overcast day
is but a story written in every book.
they live in the sound of an echo,
they paint the cathedral of your thoughts
in impermanent colors.
A whisper that is but a world away
running from the space it was
conceived in
closer to touch
than any prison cell meant to
hold the flesh.
Freedom is but the choice
to divorce oneself from
all the passions that have no
merit;
love reminds us of what is pure.
All the empty houses you
frequent
crumble when the oceans
of strange love rise up.
They give great consent
to standing tall
above the shadows of the heart.
And I will be standing with you,
side by side like two travelers on a wave,
the great crash of casuality
dividing into multiple manifetsations,
spreading like wings of a bird
that gives life to the unknown.
I will see through your eyes
and you through mine.
The only division is that
which provides temporary comfort,
but I will always haunt
your foosteps
like the shadow of the sun dial,
like the horizon waiting at your dawn.