The Trees Held Their SilenceThe trees held their silence through winter,
wrapped tightly within the hardiness of bark and brittle outer branches. They were silent, as was I, as were you, my Love, unshielded. We touch, without touching, sometimes and know without knowing how we do. We sink deep, sometimes, fall into blank spaces, shivering our way through the cold. The trees called to me in the early spring, telling me to look up – I looked up and saw the swallows had returned to me and in their returning, I returned, as did you, my Love, unhindered. We rise to the light. We awaken, seeing no further than each other. |
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