1.
Where does love begin?
Does it begin in a hole of need,
Of loneliness and longing
Or in a moment of shared joy?
In times of commiserated misery?
In the softness of an awakening?
Or did it start
When we opened our eye,
When we took our first breath?
Or before?
And if it started before
Why do so many of us
Seek it with our soul's devotion,
Searching to find a twinned emotion?
Isn’t it just me?
Isn’t it just who we are?
Doesn’t it exist without a connection?
2.
There is,
actually,
nothing more
beautiful than
the sound of
raindrops on concrete
except for maybe,
the smell of raindrops on concrete…
the note of petrichor which
smells like the
exact moment of
conception,
when life
burst forth from
an idea into an
action from
a shared feeling.
and
there isn’t
anything more
unsettling than
the way an
unexpected,
uninvited, and
unwelcomed raindrop
feels
A moment of
coldness and clarity