I can think of nought with more power
Than that which can convey so much.
There's beauty and simplicity to a flower,
So too in horizons, and seas, and such.
Yet it's language that hits me here,
And brings endless tears to my eyes;
They can convey such joy, rage, fear,
Emotions that I used to despise.
Yet I've learned to appreciate what's afore me.
Love has a power I can't begin to see.