It must be the silence.
riddles on the other line-
rise of breath, slow muted sighs
raw red ripples
what are your rhythms
to me
I whispered for bravery into swollen knots of a weeping willow
sweeping scarred strength rough on my pulse
revealing to the roots my daily face to face with
not knowing
and the belief that I can wait
as a coo soothes a napping field
rocking, deep in care free slumber-
I feel you too
will someday brush across my cheek, careful
sending troubles with a hush
quiet as the day shy's it's gaze to the night
There will always be a pause
escalating expectations, suspended seconds
when the door heaves closed
and I'm tugged into innocence
clutching the air for a blankie, holding close
the possibility everything will be alright
I keep a wilting daisy on the floor beside my bed
dampened by the shadows, colored by my eyes
it will dry completely, defeated on the carpet
yet there will be more
and I will always fill the vase with water
Jun 27, 2012
Jun 27, 2012 at 12:34 AM UTC
It must be the silence.
riddles on the other line-
rise of breath, slow muted sighs
raw red ripples
what are your rhythms
to me
I whispered for bravery into swollen knots of a weeping willow
sweeping scarred strength rough on my pulse
revealing to the roots my daily face to face with
not knowing
and the belief that I can wait
as a coo soothes a napping field
rocking, deep in care free slumber-
I feel you too
will someday brush across my cheek, careful
sending troubles with a hush
quiet as the day shy's it's gaze to the night
There will always be a pause
escalating expectations, suspended seconds
when the door heaves closed
and I'm tugged into innocence
clutching the air for a blankie, holding close
the possibility everything will be alright
I keep a wilting daisy on the floor beside my bed
dampened by the shadows, colored by my eyes
it will dry completely, defeated on the carpet
yet there will be more
and I will always fill the vase with water
for a friend
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