You might not remember my name , but i am still the same . I am The bright sunlight before the morning cloud , the silence before the storm , the wicker and the worm .
I am in the bough of a tree , that whispers through its falling leaves . that branch when you were a child when you used to seesaw on me for a time .
For I am The word that sharpens you’re tongue , before a sentence has begun .
I am the arrow that is plucked from you’re bow , that tells you’re target where to go .
For I am the oxygen you breath in the night , You’re unspoken thoughts both in the day and of the night . like you and I on a carousel on a hot summers day , those dreams will fly away .
I am in the rainbow that that spreads far and wide , that tell the rain clouds where to hide.
I am in the words “ I can’t be there “ , when that train pulls away , and you’re clasping thin air . When the fumes from the train , fill you’re lungs full of smoke . and the cabbie says “ just you my dear ?
For when you are alone by the grave of you’re friend , I will be in the honeysuckle that flowers .
And when you’re world is full of sorrow I am the binding that holds tomorrow. I will be the silver lineing when the clouds are still there . I can be the ray of sunlight that beams from afar , that hears you’re prayers , that shines down on you’re coffin , when heavens doors are ajar .