Divine
Tell me what I pine for stranger
What is Divine?
The sweet nectar of early spring blossoms
The hymn and verse of fluttering blue jays and dancing willows
Maybe, just maybe, the mollifying melody of slow churning rivers
Tell me dear stranger
Maybe the divine is not one of nature
Maybe it is the divine of the heart
So say divine is one of human’s purest natures.
For we are said to be the most complicated of creatures
The sweetest kiss of one’s lover upon one’s own soft lips
The hammering and humming of a tempted heart
The arresting breaths of long sighs
with the wonder bore into each lover’s eyes.
So say maybe this is to be divine.
Tell me dear stranger
Tell me what I pine for
What is divine if it not us human’s purest of natures
Even if we are the most complicated of creatures
Or that of the purest of nature
Maybe it is the divine of our dreams not our hearts
Who knows?
So say stranger, tell me what I pine for
Tell me, what is true divine.