THOSE WORDS
I speak my thoughts with gentleness
The things I need to say with care
Thoughts held in my hands, gone through my fingers,
balanced on my fingertips...
... sent to my lips.
I speak my words with thoughtfulness
from my faltering tongue
The air swaying rippling with
meaningful sound
I speak my words out loud, they land
where I want them to bloom
Sometimes as small white daisies
Oher times as beautiful blue thistles
or roses.
I watch them grow, my eyes follow their
independent will and stubbornness
With pride I stretch my hands
to pick them and arrange...
They grew on me.
***
Poem by Darren White
December 14, 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment