I sat and pondered about you today.
How strange it is that you do not see me, that we speak different languages of love.
For I see you so clearly, so many facets yet a simple honest truth in your eyes.
You are the milkyway. Chaos in motion, traveling in perfect harmony. The lights. The darks. The glimmer of a thousand suns. I feel the potential in it all. A hundred worlds to be made. A thousand leagues to be crossed. Spinning, spinning. Motion with purpose and strength. A behemoth of energy.
You are the forest path. Tall and wild, mimicking the sky up above. Paths through the air, through the roots below. Twisting, turning, fluid in motion. I feel the adventure in it all. A hundred worlds to be explored. A thousand miles to be eaten up. Bounding, bounding. Motion with patience and mystery. A slippery snake of spirit.
You are the fire raging. Strength in motion, a graceful dance of light. The heat. The hunger. The movement of a creature, created. I feel the excitement in it all. A hundred worlds to be ignited. A thousand minds to be caressed. Twisting, twisting. Motion with ferocity and beauty. A howl of the heart.
How strange it is that we are people of Babble to each other. Yelling of love into the night, hoping, wishing the other is listening. But, alas, we are strangers in a land not our own, a virus of the heart for each other. Our languages are only our own.
Yet still, I pondered. But in my pondering I only found my love for you. And nothing else seemed to matter.