Saturday, June 25, 2011

For You

For You

One can never know a heart
until it blossoms and says: I miss you!  
Then you hear wild geese

honking, and the snow on withered grass
melts.  Your eyes shine like the first time
you saw a tastefully livened garden.

For you there are orange blossoms,
and I know that when I am with you
the moon’s round light at the window

opens our hands and we touch
like friends, butterflies, and birds
to rise from a meadow of flowers.

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