Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Air Is Clean

I never knew you could touch grace,
Feel, hold and understand her.

The way you have spoken to the Universe,
The way you let the wind tangle your hair,
While listening to nature's speech.

Do you find grace or do you choose it?

I've lost my yearning appetite
I lost my urge to finish a fight.

Starvation mode - an addiction to feel.

Once you fall off the branch of that tree,
I can't assure you'll land among another.

Take grace, and grab hold of these strings.
Everything fragile, may tear apart.

But here, with her. You'll just float away.

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