the holy man whispered volumes, conservatively,
he spoke about truth, from the shadows.
and yet some dared to listen.
two younglings listened eagerly,
as though the man was giving food
and they were starving.
the two were very much in love
and not in the way
that they wanted something from one another
but in a way that they both were yearning for The Truth
together
and from that togetherness formed love
a love with The Truth at the center
and for the praise of The Truth.
the two crossed their legs as if they were one already
and as they did their feet collided
as if showing what working in symphony
sometimes does
but maybe working in parallel is
a better way to put it
they're always together;
The Truth is always at the center
and they never collide.
they smile at one another
feeling warmth at the pit of their being.
one pulls out the outline the holy man in preaching on
and writes in curly, loving letters
"our souls touched."
***
cheesy, I know. this is actually a story from when my parents were still dating. I just put a few deep thoughts in between.
- nancy
YOU ARE READING
{2} never alone.
Poetry"...we're hopelessly complicated and beautifully entwined, maybe we're ignorantly emancipated and selfishly try to prove it wrong..." lowercase intended.
