How much do I love you,
The voice asked.
Are you talking to me?
Why would you love me?
Simply because you are.
How quickly we ask
Why
How slowly do we see
The folly of that question
When we alone can be
The only one who imagines
The answers in our life.
Deciding how we see it
As joy or lingering strife
Perhaps one day I’ll come to be
A kinder gentler soul
Who spins a world of quiet grace
And sees myself as dear.