All we must believe
is that the way will open
when we take the steps.
All we must believe
is that the way will open
when we take the steps.
I am split open —
a winter pomegranate,
offering love’s jewels.
Open up to me;
just a chink is all I need.
Chance is on our side.
Why are we drifting
when nothing has changed? Perhaps
because we have?
We come to a path
and a choice must be made.
Are you with me, or not?
Love is always there;
it waits only for your eyes
and mind
to see it.
Reach for me.
I will hold out my hand to you
as Nature intended.
You soften my edges,
like a feather on brittle leaves
buried in the grass.
Your love brightens me
like sun on a winter pond;
warmth on a cold day.
You have turned from me,
and now I am nothing more
nor less, than broken.
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Written Word of the Modern Era
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Photography, memoirs, random thoughts.
Writings from a Wanderer
Live.Love.Believe