The sensitive man.
Open to injury, but open to love.
With hidden strength and endless depth,
His life and ways much richer, attuned to every soul.
Enjoined to those he loves,
in ways we cannot twig.
With his highs and his lows pulled together,
bound and tethered by life.
His mind is the crucible,
his heart is the anvil,
then his soul is the nursery of joy.
Be awake to his gifts.
Sometimes hidden, sometimes there.
He will pass on wants,
and take only his needs.
If he passes you in life,
If you should meet him on your journey,
Perhaps a chance encounter,
Love him whilst you may.