Ways Of Knowing
you have brought out of me the childish ways of hot summer days as we would talk about:
the water stream
the long days
your pleasant smiles
my sadness and all things in between.
We would sit across one another,
looking into each other’s eyes,
then you would get up and sit beside me, beneath the trees,
by the river that gleams from the sun above it
and we’d watch the armies of butterflies within the rainbow-colored meadow as they flutter and dance with the breeze.
We would gaze and gaze at
the daffodils and the butterflies — all dancing with grace.
I take you by the hand and wave it against the breeze and I feel the never-ending beauty that you had offered me on those summer, childish days.