Poetry is My Voice
I have no voice
So I write the words my heart wants to say.
Words flow wild and free onto page after page.
Poetry is my voice that sings every song... every lullaby.
A voice that reveals my secrets, my dreams, my esperance.
It is the child within that asks the questions
that play upon my mind, especially the "whys",
the "whens" and the "what ifs".
I hear no sounds
So my eyes tell me when I see the tumbling water
of a mountain stream that it must know how to talk.
I see the coyote open his mouth to the moon
and I wonder what he wants to say.
My eyes are a wonderful gift.
They are the window
to the beauty
that surrounds me.
your perfectly curved mouth
and know your voice must make the sweetest sounds.
Describe to me the voice of the wind as it gently blows
against my skin...or the sound of summer's breeze
among the palms.
the sound of Baby's coo, a meadow lark at dawn
and a dragonfly hovering gently overhead.
Gazing at the expanse of the night sky
I see thousands of sparkling stars and contemplate
the sound they make.
our hearts that beat in tune
and blush. The thunder that others hear
is the sound of our love...