‘There is a time and play for everything’ says my heart
And a song as yet unwritten which we will sing together
Because the centre of my hands are still soft and tender
Like the emergence of dreams
I know the road we travel along has depth and meaning.
How can we know where we will go?
Yet something from nothing is always pushing between the seams
Of what is real and what is yet to be believed.
Like the emergence of dreams
When my heart hurts because the lived moment clings to a fragile wing
I know my broken soul breathes in a full breath
As I catch the sight of a flower revealing her beauty for the first time.
How can I have the gift of going with you?
Yet something from nothing is always pushing between the seams
Of what is real and what is yet to be believed.
Like the emergence of dreams
I catch my reflection in busy waters and question my inadequency
As I hold your memory in the centre of my hands
In that place which is soft and tender.
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