Form.

Sometimes I can almost touch you you are so real.

In my minds eye you take form, but who is forming who? As I form you, you form me.

Form me, shape me, mould me. Can you smell the scent of my skin as I yours?

Can you almost see me stood in front of you or by your side?

If this is prayer, then it is blessed. Pray for me as I you.

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Letters to you.

Blank pages full of omnipresent silence. Oh how we could share our journey together you and I. What stories we would tell. What insights we would share. What bonds of love and trust we would build together. But alas. Our pages are blank. Two entities staring one another in the eye. Our gaze held, transfixed with the fear of one should break this gaze we will fall each into their own Abyss. Lost to each other forever. How silly we are. For if we both our trust in our pens, our faith on paper, we would meet somewhere. In a letter.

Seeds

In the summer, just before it comes to it’s head; blows the gentlest of winds; so light and barely indetectable. Upon its breath, it carries the scent of Autumn. It tells us to prepare for the coming harvest and to be mindful of life’s fragile beauty. It tells to be in Love and hold it gently.
The circle within the circle. It’s inevitability, transiency and ineffable Beauty.