I could tell you about the bluest of oceans.
An ocean so blue you’d find calmness in its complexity,
unity in its ever-changing streams
Where peace would be found,
a place for awe, a place for dreams.
Or I could tell you about the darkest of oceans.
An ocean dark as the nights
where sleep seems to fail you.
Waves tickling your face,
then throwing your body against the rocks,
leaving you grasping for breath.
I could even tell you about the woods,
and the stories yet to be told.
About grand views and fireplaces,
of the knights riding west,
or how the wolves all went wild,
that time the moon shone too bright.
I tried to write about you,
but still the page remained blank,
the clock went on ticking,
and the night became daylight.
And no matter my efforts,
with someone like you
my words could never get it right.