i have not seen a snowflake melt to say that it melted for you

and i have not strayed so i could tread upon a golden leaf - a crunch - in autumn hues 

       - or snow capped mountains in all their pride,

         or the baldness of a winter tree

            because you might say to me

that i could've looked and looked, in winter boots and foggy breath - and thought

of you and me; 

    Yet

        still God gave me words, the Sun and the day, 

the night and the stars and the wandering voice of baked-skinned street vendors

coming my way

     and an embrace, or someone's whispers into a listening ear, a smile 

     and the honking cars, and Living streets, perhaps a garland-selling child

and scents of spices and flowers climbing up the wall of my own backyard

                                                          (they fold perfectly into verses) -

i have not less, i need not more

for a thing like love could never be lonely; the skies will clear and the birds will sing

and for beautiful hearts, there'll be beautiful things

 always, my love -

always.