Winding roads envelop mornings
changing how I feel
as the sun rises
over half a million faces
all aglow.  
The air bears the scent of flowers
like those I have seen
within blue flames of truth
on the horizon of nothing more
than how your presence
seeks my attention
like falling snow.

I feel my pulse expanding
and I grow weak
as my skin glows soft
like poems
that have kissed the roses
around my thorns,
and my soul keeps the best of you
in my hands.  
My joy crashes
against  sands pure as thoughts
of the wildest forest
embracing its own lands.

Your voice finds me
with an understanding
that springs into my mind
making the ground I walk on
become a heaven
born of words.
I smile secretly, as if I  have begun
to read something
living inside a storm
rushing to be let in
and dancing on paper
to be heard.

Half a million faces
and all I see is yours,
telling me
I am the treasure you find
on those winding roads.
The air bears the scent of flowers
from fields
that continue to live
throughout the winter
warmed by blue flames of truth,
seeking my attention
like falling snow.