I live my life for you
because I carry your heart
with me.

This seems long ago
But not so long I guess..
There was a man
Of rugged countenance
And flowing hair
Seated at roadside
Relaxed in his being
At the beginning of
My ascent on a
Sunny park trail..
No word was spoken
Yet more than words
Were the eyes
Making brief contact..
A gaze really
A knowing gaze
Not to be forgotten
After these years...

With your own breath

Bringing dead language

To life.

Speak
Speak
Speak

The language
Stolen
Suppressed

The colonial
The PC
And
The new Puritan.

Speak I say
And write-

Miracle can
Does
Happen

With breath

oh, how in this dark
oh, how the wave flows,
the sky black and stark-
oh, how the wind blows.

the little dogs bark
their songs full of woes,
oh, how in this dark-
oh, how the wind blows.

the autumn draws nigh -
last splash of the rose,
a withering sky-
oh, how the wind blows!