Walking home Alone

I read you and you read me, We share our love in poetry. And by this love, there has occured, A thing beyond the written word. For in my life your light has shone. And I'm not walking home alone. It matters not the form you use, For no one shares your special muse. What matters is the hearts you lift, By the virtue of your gift. To me your loving words have shown, I am not walking home alone. So beautiful they bring a sigh, Speak to where your passions lie. Spread the good word far and wide, Love is all and will abide, And break the coldest heart of stone, None of us walk home alone. If somewhere in the forest still, There falls a tree and no one will, Hear it thunder to the ground, Did it ever make a sound? In its death, much like our own? Some of us walk home alone. All around us Blessings lie, Wrapped in people passing by. Sent to cherish and inspire, warm themselves at beauties fire, Allow your deepest heart be known, That none of us walk home alone. The rapture of our journey stays, Seperate from our hurried days. The passion of the pen supreme, In this place where poets dream. I have rode those dreams and flown, And I'm not walking home alone. Written March 13th, 2002 © on Mar 13 2002 06:55 AM PST, Patric Patterson    18 • 0 • 12