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| Blessing Curse by © visionwolf2 In the passing of the cars at night Lie the secrets of my heart. In the stagewhispers of the night-shaken trees Hear the beating of my blood. In the tapping of an old man's cane I hear the sound of my own empathy. In the wailing of a hobo's horn Moans of my own world-old sorrow For all the things I never said For all the words I meant to write For all the things I could have done- Not regret, but a call for my transformation. I am but the silent conduit For all the hopes and visions Of all the people Who said all the words I am but the translator. Where is the salvation for me? In humming motor, in cat's meow, In strangers' laughter, in friends' tears, In the echoing silence of this house Where no one speaks but me? I am at the Mercy Of the children of Sufferance and Sight- Her name is Creation His name is Catalyst Their child is Inspiration. Have I inherited the wind Or just the cold it blows? Vision Wolf, musing again |
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