As I closed my door and lay down to sleep
A poem came and violently knocked at my door
Being late, I put a rein on my desire to admit it in
In my sleep I could hear the faint sound of a knock

In the wee hours of the morn, as I sat up to house it
scattered phrases and broken lines floated around
A crazy excitement made me trap them in ink
But nothing worthwhile showed up on the writing pad

I found I had only violated the virginity of the paper
After hours of spasmodic labor pain
What came out was a stillborn with no heart beats
It lay limp before me and all excitement died down

It’s still body, I found had closely resembled me
Something of me was there stamped on it
How could I who had parented it
Callously discard it in a dustbin?

So I carefully stashed it away in a secret place
Where no one’s prying eyes would ever fall over it!

Whispers,
In the midnight breeze,

They speak softly,
So gently,
Little secrets,
To the chosen leaves
On the sleeping trees.

In harmony,
Songs are sung,

Carried in the wind -
Nature's sacred secrets
On the branches,
Are now, no longer hung.

Can you hear the call
Between the heavens
And the trees,

Flowing through the air,
Dancing on the seas?

These whispers
Pass through,
Gathering all the leaves
That they need to take...

Cleansing the earth -
New leaves to be born
When nature gives birth;
Such songs are sung,
Before you wake.

By Lady R.F ©2016