Over your clouds of grief,
Shine like the perennial sun.
Weep, cry, let them leak down,
Do not just let your tears be brief.
Remember the seeds you have sown,
You will get their produce as the relief.
Forget love as for you it just is not made.

He's better than I am.
Kinder, wiser, much more patient...
It's the patience and kindness that I can't help but envy
I'm so quick to judge.
Others must earn my kindness.
He's one of the rare and beautiful souls that will leave the world better than he found it
It's in his nature to plant seeds in every footstep,
While others trample life beneath them.
He's the Greek goddess who was so lovely that flowers sprung up wherever she went.
But he's different.
He's beautiful on the inside
He leaves something substantial in his path.
Flowers are pretty and fleeting,
but he plants oak trees behind him.
The trees he leaves thrive for centuries, they grow tall and strong and beautiful
Generations upon generations see his trees and they love them
He will leave forests in his wake and maybe no one will know that these forests are his...
But that's not why he leaves them.
Planting seeds in his footsteps is in his nature and I believe that's why I might love him.

Rain drops are falling,
They don't make a sound,
They bury their way,
Deep into the ground.

Where sick seeds lay furled,
And no one can see,
The beginning of sprouts,
That will form the tree.

Where butterflies flutter,
In a forgotten place,
And inside the caverns,
A storm you must face.

But for now more silence,
The quiet is your friend,
To tear you apart,
Or to help you to mend.