Still

You stand breathless

with the sun’s soft kiss on your cheeks

And the gentle morning breeze

touches your skin -

a shiver -

enough to feel what the day would bring.

And you wonder -

do  ants ever stop to take a rest?

Or do they always travel far

to know what living is like

among dead woods?

And like true soldiers

they move on storing something

for the rainy days.

Would love be like that?

Can it endure the long trek to the top?

Or would it just slowly dies

leaving you breathless

with pain in your eyes?

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