It's this realization of separation that plants a seed of you in me.
This garden is growing;
My light is blooming;
Love, shining.
Your ways becoming my roots.
...
Roots, often mistaken as weeds
to others that just don't understand.
The confusion is beautiful though,
and losing myself in the embrace of the wind brings back the logic.
The reason.
And I wouldn't have wanted any other gust to sweep my soul the way yours did.