Yet I find you
as dangling dew,
splitting the sun,
endlessly,
in my eyes.
It is your hand
i want to hold
through the garden
of nightmares,
and through
the ruins of day.
…your footsteps,
falling,
breathlessly,
are a melody
to my soul,
burning me,
with life.
Where can I find the moment
Spared amongst my words,
That can echo through my chest
Never spoken, never heard?
Where can I seek that refuge,
Open as the rays of sun,
That my spirit may bear
What a prayer has done?
Were a bush to bear a rose,
And only one, suppose
Which one of us would know
To whom a rose he did bestow?
It is a little something out of the ordinary from what I usually write, but I felt that hopefully you would enjoy it.
With Peace,
Abid
ahorsealone 
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