PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

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Like psithurism,

Embued with the essence of me,

Wading the darkside's rivers whistling a tune,

Wishing and hoping for some 

Small twinge of logic

To seep through these long branches.

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Weathered, 

Through winter storms 

And hot, blistering summer droughts,

And yet, 

Just like a willow,

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You have learned the dance,

Even when the dance tried to swallow you.

And I promise this time

I will try harder not to step on toes,

Or barrell down false pride

Without leaving cover or batting down hatches.

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Because I learned that when the wind

Hits the trees,

There is only one sound it can make

To ears that cannot hear,

Ears that refuse to listen,

To the words.

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