They’ll love you whether you’re
noteless or the feature story
written in the best of you,
whether your feet are sinking
in quicksand, or lost among dandelions
and slippery grass.
They’ll love your voice when it
deepens with life’s desire
or breaks with the frost of despair.
These are the ones who will
revive you when you’re barely alive.
When the sky loses it’s luster,
they’ll eat the clouds for you.
They’ll never be just a drifting
wind. or a splintering shadow,
a stray unimpressed with your
offering wandering off.
These people are your constants,
leaves that don’t flinch in the bitter air.
Forever entwined in your heart.
Immovable, no matter how much the branches
of your soul may shutter.
There are those people who
don’t need to look at you to
really see you.
They see you in the darkest
ravine or the midday sunlight of the pines.
These people are the backdrop
of your life, the stars who crown
you on your long walk home.
These are those you
sing the song of yourself too.
The ones who hear the potential
in every note.
And remind you of the words
when you forget how the
And silliness and no makeup ensued.