Belief Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Your eyes, how do they do the things they do, a passionate fruit which influences the wind to live a day longer,
cherishing each second as it comes,
monuments of testimony, the countless hours that pass drowned in the press of your skin,
each time I see them, drunk with the lesson's they choose to speak,
The earth slowly moves rotating it's silent kiss,
A divine saint, as I,
A disciple, yearning to learn,
The ways to your heart, to live there and seek no where else,
To worship the ground you walk on, as I alone pray to wake up by your side,
Hymns spoken from one heart to the next, silently curing the fractured heart that's forgot the height of flight,
The many times I've prayed for you,
To find you each time my words reach your presence,
Some would consider such as blasphemy,
To seek, to be found,
By noone else but you,
Is it a sin to be that selfish,
The emancipation of hands,
Lips, that wish to move any direction your in,
Words we speak into the reality that desires to breathe as free as the moon gives birth to the light it provides,
Your eyes, how do they give such life with just one look,
In my belief