Perfect For Me
It is said there is perfect forme
through the sands of time
where the shape of one
becomes two...
an emerging tone
each passing stone
becomes a note in the wind
and a quote in the mind
as the matter of a string
revolves to sing
where life divides...
" growth "
while appearing to die
really doesn't
only in the kind eye
of a storm
can seeds travel on to a far
taking rest in soils rich with air
there...
in the Hour where God said to care...
did a simple call
to believe
in us all
appear...
amid a beautiful sound
to behold
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