Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Tuesday, April 13, 2004


Pray for rain to cry in,
to walk in with no shelter
against this night,
so that I can drop to my knees
unable to find speech, form sound,
the salt that blurs my sight
such pain, searing gut instinct.
Palm flat to rocks and earth,
makeshift safety, for peace of
mind I'm tapping the ground, please,
tapping out some subconscious code,
take these feelings away, take these
feelings away.
And you are watching
through still cold branches
of trees, through clouds,
through millions of miles,
perhaps judging, perhaps not.
I am too blind to see you
but I know you are there,
silent, ever present nightly,
glowing, turning profile
to each phase, I know you
are there, offering solace.

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