HeartH, Heart(H), (H)eartH, Heart, eartH, the HeartH of love.. This is the mode of what one is left with when one believes, so I, being left with little choice, recognize it as love… They are betrothed. The nature of things… I can do with it as I please if it is of Love. Simple. The nature of things… We raid the earth like we have no obligation, we invade another spot and then another and ignore the whole, she’s gonna come calling down all around us. Simple. The nature of things... (Echo…) The birds sing now though the sky is covered in gloom. (Why gloom?) Gloom is the color man has given her clouds. (What of love?) The color of the dream flowers set loose in my prayers. (Her regret?) Tall and fetching, an unspoken truth come tumbling in. (Her suffering?) As tall, or taller, without regret’s posture. (Her beauty?) The memory we recall of an urgency leaning forward in our view. (Her sorrow?) Traffic roars a littl
(The Weaver's Song)