The Word Cloud

As simple as skin on skin,
As pure as day's first light,
No words can justify a thing,
That against all odds just might 
Save the very soul of us.
For this I'd give up the arogant
Cynical heart for one of trust
In you at least. this sentiment
Does not explain the strange wonder
Of smiles without control or laughs
That tear the darkest days asunder
 To sunny fields of cloud and calf 
And sparrows in the hedgerows green
Like lightning through rain, the path is seen.