this is real
you look
and look
and look
please speak
these birds, do you love them?
they said this path leads to greatness
i am walking towards you with every step that we take
i want to run, but you lead the way
i decide on a metaphor, and this is real
if you are a stone, i am a river
i am, always am
so then you too must be
you analyse plums as you pick them
i memorise your sweet confusion
there is a story here that is yet to be writ
so tell me this is as real as it feels
swear by the fish, the tadpoles, and blue dragonflies
by the orchards, the flowers, and ancient brown eyes
swear by your history, your land, your glittering sand
by everything here that i see, that is real
you look
and look
and look
but you speak in song, and not a word to me
someone tell me to write a poem about the northern areas that doesn't center around a CRUSH man this is excessive