love is just a word
like "beautiful"
or "fool"
until united
with a deep
unbridled
passion
mutually
embedded.
Oh what
truth and real
meaning couched
in words we say
like fleeting
pages turned
as tales begun today,
tomorrow forgotten
as we play.
Come love,
Speak.
What do you seek?
A message in the wind?
A tree,
leaves rustling,
whispering
secrets from below
where flowers
become fruit
fulfilling
the promise of
seeds
thrown
upon the ground
like words...
empty until buried,
watered,
waited upon,
Grown.
Read more articles by John Wacaster or search for articles on the same topic or others.
