… When the overwhelming gush of emotions
Seep into the most sacred parts of your being,
And you can literally feel the dreadful collapse of your esteem;
The rapid, staggering, off-beat pattern of your heart;
And the seemingly suffocating tightening within your chest,
Move from the position and state that you are in,
And make a cup of tea.

(Silence)

This is the part where I’m supposed to say something meaningful;
Something wise and worth your time
But, to be quite honest,
I’ve got nothing to say.

(Silence)

I told them that I didn’t want to do this…
I warned them that I’d be wasting precious time,
But did they listen?

(Silence)*

Personally, I think that this is the perfect time to not say anything.
Not one person should be speaking, either from this platform or from the audience.
Why?
Well, what more is there to say, that hasn’t already been said –
Passed through one ear, and then got stuck in the junk section of our heads...

(Silence)

Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve proven time and time again,
That we know nothing – just as much as the dead.
So sit there and endure the silence,
For there’s nothing sensible left to be said.

*(Silence)

Dandelion had always admired Oak Tree.
Like Oak Tree, Dandelion desired to be big, strong, and free.
Dandelion wanted to feel what Oak Tree felt, and wanted to move the way Oak Tree moved.
One day, Dandelion decided that it was time to stop dreaming,
It was time to become like Oak Tree.
So each day, Dandelion patiently watched and waited for Oak Tree to sway.
And surely, on a windy September night,
Dandelion saw Oak Tree swaying effortlessly with the wind;
Dancing under the stars and the moon,
And Dandelion wanted to dance too,
So Dandelion began to move.
For the first time, Dandelion felt sensational;
Dancing carelessly with the wind; feeling free.
For the first, and the last time, Dandelion was just like Oak Tree.
Then suddenly, Dandelion ceased to be.

… he effortlessly completes my sentences
And in the midst of my soliloquies,
He chimes in and perfectly complements me.
He doesn’t write for me, but he writes with me;
We create, we imagine, and we achieve, together.

Late last night, before I fell into a hopeful slumber, the thought of losing you struck me quite suddenly, and I refused to open my eyes and turn over to look at the other side of the bed, because I knew, that if I allowed myself to do so, I’ll be awake to that painful reality.

Love is more than...

A feeling
An emotion
A romantic notion

Love is often...

Quite a challenge
Painful - like a sore to heal  
Not always the real deal

Love sometimes...

Is lacking
Has no appeal
Is falsely based on how you feel

Love certainly...

Requires risk
Will not always be returned
Is a gift - cannot be earned

For without love...

We would not be human
But merely beasts
Therefore, love must increase

Nobody is...

Hopeless in a desire for its reach
For shattered lives can be made whole
Love can penetrate a broken soul!   

Love is...

Not a tired, worn-out cliche
But not as carefree as it is told
A treasure I'd never trade for money or gold

Love ...

Banishes hatred
A state of being and mind
Truly, of values, sublime

Awake,
And appreciate every wave of emotion;
Every state that you find yourself in –
Let your creativity draw from it
And make the world wonder –
Compel them to find out
But never truly understand,
Just how brilliant you are.