He ‘d held me in his arms and said,
what I had a never read;
That life is more than learned discourse.
So as he spoke, I watched his face
And his soft blue eyes;of course
Which eyes gave out a natural force
Yes,almost like a poet’s words
Or songs of subtle, hidden birds
So how he moved me like no other man;
No matter how they think they can,
They lose the step and do not dance
And never ever risk a chance
A leap when they might lift me high
Above their head. I’d want to fly.
Yes, form and feeling create a note
To express those feelings more remote…..
We do not need to speak or write
We have both touch and our eyesight.
And yet our human discourse needs
An anchor,lest the current’s speed
Should crash us down on Coniston,
And we’d be gone,unwound undone
Just write it down
A verb ,a noun
A string of sighs,our mouths,our eyes.
A paragraph that never dies,
within the finger tips and cries
For pen and paper,need to save
Some part of you, beyond your grave.
Your gaze no more will rest on me
Yet in its light, I’ll live and be.