There is a whisper,
when you find peace,
that finds you
and whispers whisper things;
Of personal treasures-
Of patient potential-
Of the first ripple
from when you dive...
And in you, the whisper forms a crowd,
who in their Latin encourage
with their distant volume
that you add your voice to the tip
and grant your breath to their air.

You've become quiet for the harmony
and lost all of yours;
But when you untie your voice
and close your eyes;
{ a passion for passion
which passion incensed,
subtle and bright,
against the sky's own white iris
to the deeper blues and stringed~
where ambition lies down
to the choir, to the chorus line;
"we are in love, complete"
"we are in love" }
yes,
yes you are.
And only you are.
For what can I be
that I burst among the flowers?