Questions Run In Lines of Ink
Perhaps new colors and a pocketful of delight is what you wish for
When the only thing you would do is tear them to pieces
Slowly but surely you simply drink up your dreams
As they stand up before you questioning
Your thirsty heart's seams
You ask me to put the light of our sun on the vines of your life
Then cry when the mist on their leaves becomes dry
So while we debate whether to open doors
What we ignore now becomes huge
Yet we still wonder why
Questions run in lines of ink until silence deafens what is complete
Because no sooner are they composed, you surrender
Wondering if you tried your best to know
If chaos could be trusted at all
With a heart so tender
This is what remains when your heart forgets an unspoken kindness
A faint murmur that can hold much more than you realize
It is always ready to give your thirsty heart a drink
When debating whether to open doors
To those lines of ink
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
"You ask me to put the light of our sun on the vines of your life - Then cry when the mist on their leaves becomes dry" Magical words.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Neva!! :)
ReplyDelete"So while we debate whether to open doors
ReplyDeleteWhat we ignore now becomes huge
Yet we still wonder why"
Every time. Beautiful!