I have felt,
Swayed so in my fears,
Lost in my happenstance,
Creating illusions from the shadows on my wall.
Who is she,
This fragrance unforgettable,
The one raising my conscience soul,
From the slumber of 2000 days?
Who am I,
Or rather who do I wish to be?
The one who was carved from stone,
Or the shards left strewn about at the mercy of the breeze?
What is love,
If not the breath of mountain air,
A salvation from all exhaustion,
The miracle that pulls us from the tomb?
What is love,
If not the hand that steadies me when shaking?
The idea that comes to me in the absence of my mind,
It is what I’ve been born to know.
Steady me when my ground is shaking.
Breathe life into me when the end seems near.
Be there when that final bell,
Of that final round,
Rings and all I can do is shout your name.
I can steady myself for sure,
I have done it a million times before,
But what is love,
If not my acceptance of the hand that holds it?
If not the breath of life renewed?
If not the face that guides me beyond that final bell?
Know, that in your moments of unsteadiness,
I hope my hand is the one you reach for,
In the moment you feel you can walk no more,
My name brings you to your feet.
In the second that you face the demons in your mind,
You know that my sword is unsheathed to protect you.
Should you call,
I will answer.
For what is love,
If not who I am?
And who am I,
If not the gentle pools you bathe?