A Noun Needs a Verb

Even the shortest sentence

has two simple needs: a noun,

a verb. A basic formula for

endless chance 

to build or deconstruct

any infinite version of reality.

Always, always

two basic elements to complete

a thought. Noun, verb.

Separated, even maintaining meaning,

it's partial. 

A piece missing, an idea -- dangling. 

But when connected, there's satisfying

conclusion. 

Resolution, understanding. 

     I am a noun. 

     A person first,

     often a place

     and sometimes a thing.

     I give you context. 

You are a verb, all

movement and action and

infinitive.

Giving, trying, being.

You offer action, you

provide purpose. 

Joined, we turn fragments into sense.

We share words with similar intentions

but different executions.

Words like: 

     Shelter. A place; to protect.

     Love. Affection; to feel deeply.

     Peace. A state of quiet; to calm.

I am, you are

noun, verb -- together, whole.

It's that simple, that complex.

Two elements, part of one.

We are complete, 

necessary, complimentary.