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The sense in my confusion.

Tags: poetry

As I sit there,
Still as the smallest blade of grass,
My world spins.
I can feel the rush of involuntary winds,
They cause rapid thought and rushes of emotion.
And when I become still yet again,
Everything dosen't make sense,
But it's the high of knowing,
Someday, somewhere, somehow everything will be ok,
And our once distant love will be closer and even closer to flawless.
Your love can no one match,
Your value as important as life itself,
For you are the stillness in my world,
And the sense in my confusion.

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