You Speak I Answer
H
Herbert Nehrlich
0
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Sometimes, love is a very quiet breeze
Gently swaying May cherry blossom boughs.
Pink cotton candy drifts cool waves and tease,
Softening paired footfalls on stony paths
To forgiving ground, where, as if by chance,
Eyes meet, lock and know the hearts tidal roar
Of secret aching need in one seismic glance.
Sometimes, one misses quiet breezes,
and does not see the swaying blossoms.
And does not taste the cotton candy
until the roar of Tsunami, urgently knocks,
and joins, as if by chance, the aching hearts.
And eyes that meet are hands that grasp,
and closeness locks the hearts in one,
where time and tide respectfully
will stand back for eternity.
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