You are the stars when the sun shines,
and the light when it's night time,
The breeze when the humid summer air
surrounds and drowns me.
The quiet desperation in a carefully contemplated sympathy speech,
which somehow, remains politically detached from the voice who whispers it.
You are the ripples on a clear lake surface,
and the waves in an ocean, which reach their glassy bodies on the crystal sand, and as quickly as they come,
roll away with an unfailing, endless murmur.
You are the unfinished words of the silent poem, and the incomplete painting of what was once crafted with an absolute, unadulterated outlook on life.
From this captivating rendering of you, I recall the hunger to experience the simple, the modest, the plain, and embrace the beauty of experience.
Because, my beloved,