Choosing
They have called it a miracle
when streams meet oceans,
and lightning insists itself across the sky
Flowers unfold and weep their petals away
Bees continue their dance-
the tale of ages marches on
A miracle? I ask
Perhaps not, but simply the way of things
What else do flowers and lightning and bees know of the world?
Yet, when two souls make a choice
Standing together amidst the chaos of a thousand rifts and voids
Knowing at each crossroad to come, both must choose
together or not
once more
Is this not the miracle?
It is the way of things to choose and choose again
But that every time they have chosen each other-
a living fairy tale
For what do lightning and flowers and bees know of love?
They know nothing, absolutely nothing,
compared to this
when streams meet oceans,
and lightning insists itself across the sky
Flowers unfold and weep their petals away
Bees continue their dance-
the tale of ages marches on
A miracle? I ask
Perhaps not, but simply the way of things
What else do flowers and lightning and bees know of the world?
Yet, when two souls make a choice
Standing together amidst the chaos of a thousand rifts and voids
Knowing at each crossroad to come, both must choose
together or not
once more
Is this not the miracle?
It is the way of things to choose and choose again
But that every time they have chosen each other-
a living fairy tale
For what do lightning and flowers and bees know of love?
They know nothing, absolutely nothing,
compared to this
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