Speak, write.

Here i am, everything
rushing by around me and yet
All is still, I look quietly.
Where does the night go,
how does the light know
when I have come in, hidden behind
crouched and moved and hushed, till I find
Eyes that cannot see me
eyes that somehow know me
Is it my heart or is that how
it was from the start
Is it how it shall be and it is meant to be
Yet right now only how I wish it to be?
Clasping and reaching and clawing
These are meaningless actions that mean more than most others
But do I know what they imply
or am I just waiting to try
To understand, to connect, to find
that yes, it started in my mind
But on it will go, and on it will flow
Till it rises and swells and till I will know-
This is what it is, and all that was before
and pre-packaged inserts in my life
will not mean much because here it is
Fresh and beautiful and exciting
and unknown and unknowable and frightening
But it is mine it and I belong to it
I am together more than even I know it
With me and her and us and everything else-
-and nothing else at all.