when we feel strong emotion
we often have no words
that seem to fit our commotion
we coo and chirp like do the birds
   or moo like cattle in their herds
and only gradually we find
the words connecting soul and mind
so we can speak our feeling
rather than reeling
   speechless
in some unspoken power’s bind

* * *

With a hint of death
mingling in the air,
the nocturnal snapdragon is
digging wells,
not just for water,
but also as final resting
places for friends back home,
in the garden,
deep within the soil.

Callous hands and feet
speak of insufficiency
and misery under the sun,
the one lone solace comes
with night,
and the partaking of
her body's delicacies,
bringing her innumerably
to the helve,
as she sings heavenly things
about the architecture
we creatures fall
so easily from.

I cannot remember the memories I forgot
I'm sure they are there somewhere
between despair and uncaring
un sharing them
thus
they have diminished
like unfinished furniture
left in the cellar
dwellers of the dark