Why does a love that
waters trees
and colors leaves,
not plant a hopeful seed?

For love, you dread
is all but dead,
save for the dreams
in your sleepy head

Why does this love
that lights the stars
not brighten
your soul's dark night?

From light so bright
you hide your eyes
as if my love was
a perilous fight

Why cannot love which colors the sky
and renders each moment's frame, art-
not capture, then enliven your soul,
to melt then hold your hardened heart?

Wake up and smell the coffee...