Symphonies

beautiful-clouds

 
Such inadequate words
Yet we try
I used to talk in symphonies

Cacophonies of sound
Melodies of phrases
Meanings lost, misunderstood

Pretty sonnets
Quadratic fluff
Known only to me

Silence, always the teacher
Wisdom unspoken
So I watch

Arms spread on a sunny day
Clouds drift unbound
Nothing but this

And this is what is needed
Nothing but this
Without words

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Only Words

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I hear the words
The phrases
Every day more
Words we all know
Of caring
Compassion
Of sanity
Yet we remain
Insane
No one is listening

Stoic

 

 

 

Living On The Surface

surface

 

How much was my deposit?
My life a week older
How better off am I?
As I get older

What are the means?
Of living here
When what I give
Causes more fear

I am tired now
Please let me rest
Give a little time now
I will be my best

I finally see now
What it all means
Spending a lifetime
For others means.

Stoic

 

 

Walk

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It is cold
I am cold
In more ways than one

A world pulls
Take the bait
In shade without a sun

“Pain is real”
I tell myself
Yet I am still here

So I walk
Each little step
And every tear

Life up close
A narrow lens
A world within a world

Belies a truth
I have known
Forgive this life and unfurl

Stoic.