There's something here these days behind my eyes
And waiting in my heart, its chance to speak.
Held on my tongue, it stays just like a thought;
A tale within a book once lost to time
Yet recently unearthed from lives' deep vault.

Cover tightly sealed to ward all harm away,
And thrice marked with a word, a secret sign
Unknown to all but one who will not say,
The book waits quietly for the time
When once again its pages turn and see the day.

And though in truth I've studied countless words and lines,
None will turn the secret lock that binds the truth.
The mouth holds not the key, it's bound in time,
And this word's not in language of the tongue
But in eternal language of the heart's design.

So when, at last, my heart is moved to speak the spell,
To utter what it will, in care of consequence,
What words will tumble forth to greet the day?
Wisdom mixed with wit and innocence,
And answers to all the questions I have to say.

Copyright David E. Bramley, 2003.10

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