Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Voice

I went searching
for my dying voice
it was hard to find
muscles broken and heart soiled

I found that place
Above the heart
Where we sit like strangers
On a fast beating train

We are free
Passing Regal castles
That broke down decades ago
red carpet, secret passages, and golden statues

Inside my throat are fireflies
When I laugh with you; they flutter
to the last few notes
I play on the piano of memories

We translated from paper
The black spots on the page
Into clear spring air
Into love and ideas, there, and then gone

Unseen as the wind
Passes over my chapped hands
But heard like a message
Landing hard on our ears and mind

I went searching
For my waking voice
Not afraid to look
At the music and sing.


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