My Relation with Words [& other such things]

Can I disappear within your madness? Get lost within your flow?

Would I lean against your back and hide amongst your curves?

Will you let me in your spaces and fill me with what you know?

Will you touch my heart with your character and show me my soul?

Is it a slow process? An ever-glow process? A forever grow process?

Is it smooth or bumpy? Or perhaps a bit of both? Will you always love me?

Will you always be here? Hopefully a bit of both.

What about when my eyesight fades? How will I know your face?

With my hands? To feel your lines and shapes?

What sorts of stories will you tell when I am old and you are just being born?

Will you still be born when my limbs are limp with age?

Will you still have stories when my mind is slow and dull and gray?

I don’t want to think about those days. I don’t want to think about when this may end.

I want this forever and forever be your friend, but I know some day we will part.

I just hope it’s later. I hope I don’t grow to hate you. I hope I don’t betray you.

You are always there. Always able to create substantial love and beauty.

I don’t make you. You just are. I hope I treat you well, because I could never repay you.

I wouldn’t think to either. It would be like a child who feels the sun upon his skin, revels in the warmth and thinks to himself, “I must some how repay the sun.”

No, you just are. You give freely and there is always love and beauty on whoever embarks with you.

May we all set out, hand within hand, with you and forever appreciate every day we are given to be in this unity of love with you.

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