An unscathed voice—not mine—
Had been stumbled upon.
With "The odds stacked against us"
Oh wait! but are they, really?
For how does a mind learn
If it hasn't lived an entire beat.

Words rearranged by your lips;
Carried by the medium called fate
Have found a home, eventually.
And though you hold an exalted tongue
And although I don't apprehend.
A grass under a tree
Appreciates a warmer shade.