Like a feather falling in a storm, love has its own currents
These currents have no mind, no choices, no set path
We know not when we will be swept into the tempest
Taken on an unexpected journey to a destination brighter than the last
But when that feather settles itself, when it finally connects with the world
We call that home
Disclaimer: This poem was written on the day of, and for, the wedding of my friends Cris and Mike.
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