Glass stained with the morning dew. That nectar of night.
The midnight that blossums into morning as the cold heart of darkness pumps emphatically with warmth at dawn.
Thoughts cascade like snow
and the dreaming sadness of night permiates in a soulful awakening.
Broken yet unscathed,
Open yet unused.
Afraid and at war.
To so fear love.
A goudy blade of adolescence.
The wounds: still festering like
apprehension, like insecurity.
You can't hurt a storm..
Nor blanket it from chaos.
But as the world does turn; so too does the sun shine brightly.
Winds die. Fear subsides
And courage is to love what it leaves behind.
