It would be nothing but the truth.
That love wove itself around you a shelter
That love whispered the leaves and made the sun shine
That love itself has soaked into the very marrow of your bones
It would be nothing but the truth.
I will tell now that love weighed you,
Found all the cracks and filled them in.
That you feared love, but love did not fear you.
And at St Marks, in the crook of the river, under the watchful eye of the hills,
You found your courage and surrendered to it.
1 comment:
I can almost picture it. Reading this fills me with happiness.
Always write. Always post.
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