How can I tell you
If not threw mine own eyes
Shall, I speak of the mighty sun.
And how it plunges into the sea.
The very heavens sent ablaze.
And as its last light struggles to breathe, its embers sore.
And a million suns now shine scattered across the midnight
sea.
Or, shall I speak of waterfalls.
Their majestic blue might as a knife, cutting into lush
of green.
Each drop of water questing for sea.
Now, forming streams of light and passive pools
reflections hold the very magic of dreams.
Or perhaps, I shall speak of a single flora.
Pushing up threw concrete of street
its delicate beauty its strength.
Nay, I shall speak of how your smile and laughter fills of
me.
As if, for but a moment
all things are as they should be.
If, alas but one of gift from me
It would befor you too see.
Yourself as I see.
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