Poetry

Enchanted

Three steps forwards,

the girl surely took

and on her path did find

 

the boy to wake her heart

from its frozen state

and bring clarity to her mind.

 

He spoke to her,

rambling away the thorns

on every stroll they took,

 

and never for a moment

did she feel

that he hadn’t understood.

Poetry

If we were a map

We drift.

We wave.

We high five

those we always see

those we’ve never met

those we’ve met but don’t see

those we’ve seen around but don’t know until we meet.

We wonder how many times

our lines have crossed

in the chaotic waterfall that drowns everything,

focused on the X that marks the path

but not life.

We steady.

We beckon.

We say our goodbyes.