Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another

The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight

Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes

I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you

I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from

I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face

I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows

There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze