Take the words, turn the world make me a whirl, translate me into a thousand loving smiles. You are regeneration making me smooth. It is love made truth. You are breaking me taking lost pieces into heaven. It is me made you. It is you made me. It is us, breaking apart the words that separate us. It is me becoming exhales of a torn heart. It is you becoming inhales of a singing harp. It is the truth that comes and goes through our pain, untouched. Because there is no sorrow, if there is a breeze translating me into a thousand loving smiles. It is you, the wind giving is all before heaven, the heaven that in me while heaven is within, you.
There are many times when we live in sorrow. Life is full of blossom. Perhaps, those tears are opportunities to understand this. Life is a smile expecting to be seen. If life were to be gloomy, would love exist? Love is all needed to be joyful. Is it?