The Lord knows you're trying. Keep rhyming. Divine the litanical word structure to interconnect us our head, our hearts again. Since I first felt you I've always sought you again. I know where to start, walking these streets. Comes passing the sea of late autumn leaves, the colorful sea of leaves lifting up my feet, I’m every season in a day. The wayward fashion insofar as ink fills my hand and the band of my heart’s wanting speak heals the cool air, the warm is coming again, brush off your skin; comes back again, the new skin serenade. Bodies swimming in and of another, everybody is everybody, believe me we are all people and all people ought to help all people. Believe all people.
When the least of all is our measure, we do well to the truth of our good. Our people on all levels ought measure not, people are people and that is that.
When someone offers us our heart - we listen, we live within collective growth, devoted to good causes - our effect is a sustained one, a good satisfaction to betterment, and always we grow.
Like flowers to bees, like good ideas to my mind - i suckle the pollen of germinating truth, spread with ink the truth. Spring will save us our day and we remember the seasons in total, to be love. Thank you Lord. To spread love. To be.