Come to fall,
As you may like, to do so
To my arms.
Because, when I look above, to see what stands in grace,
I am idle enough, to see the two arms like boughs,
The two legs like boughs,
The face that is alike the trunk with an impression,
And so, I implore you
To fall, so that I may catch
What should no longer be strong against the storms.
Love is never gray.
Though, there is ample opportunity
In a place as that, where disbelief runs rampant.
Cynicism is a void, a place without belonging.
And, I’ll believe in life, in the tree,
With its many branching veins,
So much highlighted in the winter.
I can see,
The harmonious tree,
That sighs with the wind,
That churns with the wind.
It is you, is it not?
The little lady of my own life?
You are yet tall, despite such a frailty
I have noticed
Among your sanctity.
They would protect you,
But, I will protect you.
Your form, with limbs like the boughs of a tree,
With fingers like the twigs of a tree.
Could you still fall,
As I cut you down,
So I may catch you,
In my long arms?