Silent Syllables

There are winds that whisper
leaving willows to sway;
swirling constellations
falling from lucid skies.

There are crystal moments
when raindrops on the window pane
sing softly in chorus
with the tears
that call you to me.

There are mornings that warm the bones;
wildflowers dancing at my feet
swirling skirt, arms outstretched
reaching across rivers and mountains
to that one true love.

There are miracles made
from just a heartbeat
not a syllable to be said,

and then, there is you.



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