Like you ...

Like you, wingless,
what I would be,
if limited by a feeling
I could not follow,
my most secret of dreams.

Like you, languished,
hole where whole should be;
Eager to fill it with
studied meaning and
reason's industry.

Like you, gnawing,
what sense would Love be
grasping little fears,
made of empty mimics and
stolen dreams.

Like you, wrapped
with stars and dust.
Longing like gravity;
aching for the light
we call Love!

Like you, surrendered
Hastened to a sigh,
where tears linger
and something sweet,
inside, waiting there.