Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, January 02, 2011

Shattered pieces

Sings>When the wind stops blowing and the sky seems to clear,
and my heart stops aching, and there is no signs of fear,
when the dreams lead me to you, I'll be in your arms and not
a moment to soon.

When the trains no longer whistles aloud and the trees on
the hills block all the sound, when the blue bird doesn't
stop by, I'll know that my spirit has surely died.

When the clouds no longer invite us to dance and the
stars fade with one little glance, when I wake in morning
 both lonely and blue, I'll know that my need is only for you.

When the river recedes and the bed is dry and I can walk
the bank with no surprise. When the story's have all been
told , the words of love will certainty unfold. 

It's early in the am and the sun has yet to rise, the dogs are
are all sleeping and the cats are here by my side. Gingerbread
houses and lights on a tree all mean so little if you are not
here with me.

The silence can't stop the heart from song, it sings loud enough
to drown what don't belong. The melody soft and sweet sung
with the words that refuse to except defeat.

My father was a smart man he spoke not in riddle,
in his own words he once said" the voice of man is his own fiddle. "

To accept your love graciously as it gently embraces my heart and soul. 
 I can't shake the chill that runs throughout my soul...

The travesty of mans actions have been recorded in history, 
and though we have learned a great deal, we have still not
found away to stop those empowered from playing God. 
Death should not be a choice for life is a gift. 
Once spoken a word  it is given life,
once written a history is revealed,
Once remembered ...
Destruction is simply man gone astray...
The storms of life have awakened the spirit and like 
the rain upon the mountains I have absorbed both 
the positive and negative upon the journey.


Where do you go, when there is no where to go?

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