The Silence of Sounds

My loss- my love- which knows no bounds
seems to adhere to the silence of sounds.
In the miracle of moments- those precious few.
I seem to be dreaming- always thinking of you.

The memory of your form constantly keeps me warm
through these lonely nights, I find your presence.
And in the morn when again I am born,
I am filled with what I can only think of as effervescence.
That energy is spent- as has the day went-
running down into the dark of night.
And for the briefest period, I conflict with a myriad
of horrors that stab me with fright.
So, with pad and pen, I fight them back again
in the mightiest battle of words and ink.
Until the untold number is sent back to slumber
and I sleep- and dream- and think
Of a second chance in this repetitive dance
where I whisk you away from the heartache that pounds
to a world truly true, with songs of I love you.
So far away from the silence of sounds.

Ma'am, there's been an accident

And the westward wind blows heartache
across a brow furrowed by age.
She stands before an opened door
but still can feel the cage.
Enrapt by all who've gone before,
before her sentimental mentality of rage.
She stands aghast before the dorr,
agape from her ghostly rage.

And the eastern sun never rises
before her soul bereft of sight.
She stammers, trying to step forth,
to find her strenght too light.
Helpless here without her worth,
worth more than she has a right.
She stumbles back without going forth,
for she has forgotten the worth in sight.

And the northern lights, reflecting not,
knowing they cannot be seen.
She sits upon a wooden floor
unkept, with pride unclean.
Lost in thought so overwrought,
wrought from a past serene.
She slumps upon a wooden floor,
unkept with lights unseen.

And the southern drawl keeps whispering
to the ears and souls above.
She closes her eyes and cries here,
for all the were dreaming of.
For closed doors and kept cages,
rages unseen by the light of love.
She closes her mind and locks her soul
away from all they had been dreaming of.

faith

When we no longer fight for the sight of our salvation,
When not a single soul is left to heft a bloody sword,
When a point of view is not construed as someone's damnation,
Then we shall truly have faith in the Lord.
When love is the first instinct over anger,
When forgiveness is bliss and easily poured,
When we can hang from a cross and feel love for the hangers,
Then we truly shall have faith in the Lord.
Feel love for the Father as He feels for His son,
Feel love for the Son as He feels for us all.
With spirit we worship the three who are one.
Creator and cration with faith never fall.
Why preach without practicing the faith we afford?
Why teach without taxing ourselves through and through?
Why wait for fate to deem the day of the Lord?
When the Lord has so much faith in you.