To Love a Poem

Some say, it is to reach out,

take a forbidden hand,

run with her

through soft midnight beads,

a million pieces of an eye ,

to look away, with her,

as the world blankly stares

into heaven's endless embrace.

Some say, it is to love nothing,

to see her doe eyes

gaze from every lost dream;

through time not promised to her

you hear her whispers, a dandelion's

silver trees in the air-

hope is the thing with feathers.

I say it is worse- to be thirsty rain,

angry ice with fingers

blown from broken trees,

thinning wind still longing

to hear you find its name;

For me,

for these,

the sun shines on another day.