whether in weathered
rain or ocean deep
or standing against
the river water rush
it drips, it drowns
it pulls it all away
it pressurizes in
its silent dark depths
and flows through all
the inner streams
it is the glass
calling for a sip
it is the fog that
blurs reality's sight
it is the ice that bites
and the steam that stings
it is the stirring in
the sky that inspires
children to see things
other than what they are
it is the vast sea that
keeps people apart only
to incite them to
take the journey across
it is the tapping
on the windows
or the tears from the
windows of the soul
No comments:
Post a Comment