Sweet soul mate,
priceless friend:
sometimes silence
is all I have to offer
or dare to give.
Some times, when
life weighs heavily
I think it best to only
whisper to myself,
not share distress.
Some times,
I fear my words
may send you fleeing,
my candid tongue
give cause for fright,
expel you suddenly
into the night,
so black we cannot see;
a night, where faltering souls,
expelled from ceded dreams
bide no expectation of
a rising sun.
Or so it seems – some times.
Some times, in silence,
my soul inquires
what lethal mind
conspired to write this tale,
evoke dark conjuring
of heart, soul and
circumstance, to form
a place of pondering
and deep, tormented,
wondering.
Some times I sit quietly
(and as a consequence
you comprehend me to be silent):
I’m not at all,
my mind tossed wildly
to and fro like
wind-lashed sea
hurled helplessly
until, weary, spent
against a distant shore,
it rests, hoping to
waken to a fanfare
of brighter portent.
So, dear (dearest one) ,
some times
I think it best to only
whisper to myself …
and wait for sunrise,
some time.
(03/14/06)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I need more poems. The language and flow of this poem suits me. Write more.