all the ways I drown in silence
as lifeboats climb trees
the tidal pull, the listen for you
but wave after wave of mute breath
while your forests are alive with float
songs of save, so far away
sink, sink in salty quiet
none of your life lines reach
they play melodies in trees
and I struggle
wordless rip current
desolate sea
silences me
long ago he had gone
to the silence, though
she held time as if was
the hands that once
caressed her cheek
before the decay of days
the way his eyes never
fell upon her anymore
their journey away
had begun before the trees
wept and footsteps grew
farther in colder days
the surrender of years
until nothing remained
but the window watching
empty spaces
The Music Man, he soothes; he plays all his chords in blue,
leans back his head, eyes closed, fingers of a poet.
He plays out his soul, in sonnets of electrics strings,
harmonies of rain and green. He’s made of music, mountain,
and silence, still searching for his home. His melody
so sweet that clouds rain words, lift hearts into bloom.
Miles and miles away, she sits in peace by the sea,
and the mountain tells the waves the Music Man’s song.
She hears it all, Music Man’s dreams never sleep; she collects
each note, each word, each dream, two souls – and builds a home for both.
I am here
and you are
where
I am lost
in an ocean
of your
silence
reaching for a
lifeboat
of your words
but
wind speaks waves
that crash
over me
listening
cloud cover
only
beyond my sea
your island
of words
I
float
in
silence
has words for all, gather and follow,
crowd me to the corner, unseen.
what do they mean? what do they
mean? words you’ve already given,
taken, turned, used, played, bestowed,
i don’t want them. i take silence,
shelter here, covered in real. alone,
away from crowds of more to claim
you, to pull, hold, own the words.
spread your imprint, your follow,
pieces for each, exchanged for devotion,
fill you up, adore. I, alone, more, silent,
gone.
You show me a skull, tell me you scare people,
and you don’t believe in God.
I nod and listen, smile a little, and hold out my hand.
Come with me, let’s walk together. Take my hand –
It’s warm, you say – yours is, too, but I knew it would be.
Let’s walk the shore and you tell me why God can’t exist.
I promise to hear you, if you promise to stop with me,
close your eyes and listen to the way waves
feel as they gather toward shore, and break
their release to the sand in song. And see the shells,
and the driftwood, each one a different sea sailor. Listen;
they will tell you stories of voyages and places you could
never know. Breathe the salt air, know it like home,
like carefree summer days and moonlit nights, it holds you.
Now let the words go and watch as my sun floats to the waiting
sea, his arms outstretched to embrace her. Do you feel the yellow?
I watch you close your eyes, and I wrap my arms around you
as the shades of glow and sincerity wash through you. Quiet.
The sun has gone and sweet blue shines the sand. You turn
around silently to hug me. I feel it. Watching you drive away,
I see you smiling. There is love all around you.
God just followed you home.
Talking to the Clouds 