By Martin Falatic
The winds carried my words of love
aloft, spread far and wide,
They settled on your distant shores
and could not be denied.
But words alone soon fall to dust,
like tears from lonely eyes
Replaced by words of spoken trust,
not enchantments of the mind.
For in Time there comes a place
that’s not quite me and not quite you,
A place where hearts communed as one
remain distinct as two.
We rush not foolishly into the Void,
of what one cannot see,
But know full well, that around us swells
the Void of hopeful dreams.