Part II

Or maybe your love was
like drops of spring rain
needed for my soul to bloom.
Falling relentlessly, gently into
the ground, my heart, powerless underneath it.
Green foliage, crisp fresh breathes
that I now realize it was your
leaving;
my own spring tears watering the upturned garden of my soul to blossom again.
Quiet potted plants by the window sill witnessing the never ending plummet of tear(rain)drops.
Understand it wasn't your love, it was the strength I found in my soul that I lived again after you took your love far away, to a place beyond my reach; Within yourself.

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This is supposed to be a continuation of a love, an instance.