i speak of love like a wind across the plain
like ashes of a dearly departed scattered upon the the earth
quiet in my brooding, to sound in joy
knowing nothing but with a promise in my heart
dreaming of possible things — this is courage
all of it rests upon the will of the believer, a calling is so
merely words carried through the mundane atmospheres
who will do what he can? this is courage
who will dare to love as it was intended of us?
not to call upon the furies, but to hold a hand
quiet in prayer that does not rely on a miracle
i speak of love like moonlight striking water
i believe. you need not ask in what, if you believe it, too