His words take me to such heights
Atmospheres I have never flown

In moments I am taking flights
Through fields of the unknown

My soul must look like the Northern Lights
I wonder if to him I glow

And if it is to me he writes
It’s not possible this I know

But that’s a doubt for different nights
When we’re flying over the Arctic Zone

His words as invitation invites
Thaw the places I have froze

For in his words I take deep plights
Blooming from the ashes where I’ve grown

The way his words in me incites
The rise of a feather, not the weight of stone

I take it in, I take the sights
My life less monochrome

Our souls tangled together like kites
My eyes engaged completely where you roam

© Delia Ross. 2019

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