Modern Romanticism

Our part to play
comes out to wash
the dark away.

Our eyes do more
to listen to each other,
while it’s our ears
doing more to retain,
with our hands
brought together
to collect the rain.

I feel the bursts
from our loyal hearts
in their quickened rhythm,
chiming the verse
we’ve held back,
until it came time
to speak its symphony.

Personal cues
were what led us
to wait, though not to
cover our heads
with dark clouds,
under the uncertainty
with what was felt.

It’s always love
that tells a pair of souls
to surrender themselves
to a period of patience.

It’s meant to let us see
what grows from the light,
from the sunrise,
after we’ve been dreaming
during the night.