Sunday, 24 January 2016

Quietly listening

I've walked this road a thousand times, a thousand different frames of mind, I make my way pass your door and sift through thoughts washed up on my shore.

Tangled up in  weeds and moss, I stumble through the fields of loss, down paths where trees have stood for years, statues carved of hopes and fears. 

I take my time to notice signs that lead me through a maze of minds, reaching out to whisper rhymes, of love so clear my heart sings, and all stand quietly listening.

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