Slipping silently down each page
Words falling down
I wipe the thoughts from my mind
Ink watercolor dreams
Grey days as drops slide seamlessly across
The windows of the soul
Clouds obscured sunlight reaches through
Drying the indigo print
Pages wrinkled, smoothed.
Does it reach you through the storm
When the heart lies broken
Healing words to make whole?
If nothing were spoken in ancient texts
Would it matter what was never said
What was never brought forth?
Ah sweet rain wash clear the path
Leave the eyes refreshed
So much more to say as typhoon wind
Blowing the pages too fast
To capture a memory too quickly lost.
If the rain had never fallen
And words just never spoken
Earth quiet, a lonely place to be.
Thoughts on what if we never wrote, if beautiful thoughts were never put down, what would this world be?