Dear poet,
if I could love you,
I’d dive into the depths of your soul,
unravel the quiet ache
that lingers behind your words,
and trace the blue beneath your eyes.
I’d understand your longing for birds,
the way their song pulls you
into something ancient,
something that flies beyond the cage
of what you can touch.
We’d wander through desert sands,
where nothing grows but still,
life blooms.
We’d stand on unfamiliar shores,
letting the waves bring secrets
from lands we’ve never known.
We’d lose ourselves in the cool depths of lakes,
letting water silence the world
until all that’s left
is the pulse of our own hearts,
the slow rhythm of being alive.
I’d see you talking to God
in the spaces where words don’t reach,
feel your faith rise and fall
like breath,
and in that quiet place
you’d become whole.