today my heart speaks a
language that my mind longs
to hear
not in the way of a box of grammar or
a closet of semantics but in the
careful stitching of the weaver
of tapestry or of the painter with
each purposed stroke
with the knowing that flows in the
current that moves the confident tide
in time with its mate the moon
today my heart speaks a
language of freedom that
moves me
No comments:
Post a Comment