a poem: love, loves.

love stands at the bottom of the field, waiting. eyes searching the fog of each new day, calls out to to your stumbling feet:

‘my wandering love, there you are—you have come home!’

— love, loves

© Liezel Graham 2020

Image source Pixabay

Sometimes, I am tempted to explain my words, I’ll let this one find you wherever you are.

Just know that you don’t have to do a thing. Love does what love does. You have always been enough and if you do nothing at all, you are still enough.

It doesn’t matter which way you take to go home, love waits for you.

You are loved.

You are loved.

You are loved.


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