grape hyacinths.

madly madly i feel for you.

if only my lips could produce such verse and sonnet, but woe, i lack the precise and eloquent vocabulary that you so nobly grasp.

oh how i long to be the lashes upon your eyelids that i might catch a glimpse of how you look out upon this green evanescence.

you sir, without any realization or blink, have captured it all—the air, the depth, the vastness.

be so kind as to bestow a word upon my porcelain fingertip so that i may gingerly press it to my feeble lip.

madly madly i am in a daze.

swirled into the rush, i have yet to notice.

come, ever so gently, and trace the unformed wrinkles that lie dormant.

madly madly i fell for you.

english class.

let your eyes see beyond the dirt coating worn hands, rough feet, and unfashionable clothes to avoid initial incorrect judgments.

let your ears listen patiently past the slopping mud, foreign tongues, and stark silence to hear the muffled cries and tear down your unfaltering walls.

let your hands reach out and touch with gentle strength the unclean, discarded, and abandoned knowing this is your greatest calling.

and let your heart embrace with utmost fullness those who are pushed to the sidelines of this life, to follow a sanction placed upon your soul, to empty and cast off your identity and illuminate Him to all. Amen.