Inspire

Words come in soft meadows

In lush forests and swishing waters.

They come in trickles of mist

And mushy patches of mud puddles

And tiny pecks of pebbles.

 They come in lines of ants

 Working vigorously to find shelter,

 And in sticky paw prints,

Fresh with winter.

They come in small flaps and flutters,

Traveling in v-shaped forms.

They come with the tears of innocence

And flamboyant fears of boys.

They come in the darkest of days,

 When nothing goes quite right.

They come when the dead smile

The tiniest amount of light.

They come when your arms drip crimson

And your thoughts bleed black.

They come way before they start to help,

And when they want to end it all.

But come they do, like with everything else.