My love you can see and you can know.
I sat up all night thinking how is it so.
It doesn’t feel like much maybe, but I need you to know.
The way you are, the grit on your cheeks, the fear in your bones, the glass over your heart, it’s heavenly oh.
You aren’t the boy in the yard, or the lost one who is alone.
You have delicate ears, soft eyes, rough hands and a soul of stone.
The world has been bothersome and you chose beat over bone.
Beautiful and sweet, pure and kind, grasping to own.
The dust around your body, the particles placing you astray, just wash them away.
There’s a warmth, a cold, a warmth, a cold, just try and stay, just today, okay?
You are protected by the special ones, to that I am one, you can play.
Different shades, green and yellow, purple and black, no matter, they’re colours all the same, tones created from fray.
Lifting and moving, rolling and sliding you are more than tools, silt and trucks.
You are lightning and strength and sensitive forces inherited from the mucks.
The windows are always open you can choose what to breathe, it doesn’t have to suck.
Without the blocks there is nothing to know how to surrender to and survive… shucks.
The giving from your hand and the easy way you go, the wind sweeping into your nose, you appease.
I listen from all the way over here, I can hear the woe and the yearn to please.
The last time you spoke, it was a goodbye that will rest far out wide and down in the depths of many seas.
I will always be watching you, my eyes scan the valleys and search the caves.
Listen not to the ones who hold defence, who let compassion slide, who can’t see inside, who enjoy the rave.
Your tired mind, your stretched emotions, listen less to them, be brave.
The sparkle in your chest, you can rely and listen, you know what’s gone, and what you gave.
Emma Wisdom 