In tender vines I grow,
surrender to the ebb and flow,
feel and struggle, want to strive,
love is lifes’ potential to be realized.
Filled to the brim, with gifts within,
I find myself, in your embrace,
when all my shadows turn to grace,
so love will be the bridge, in every place.
Neither pleasant nor divine,
neither yours nor mine,
a song is sung, between the lines,
unsaid the truth sublime.
When the players cease to play,
walk arm in arm away,
the plains grow wide, the trees they sing,
and leaves are dancing in the wind.
Sometimes grace hits you hard and sometimes it tucks you along gently and joyfully.