The Lost Words

Staring at the blinking bar

Wondering how the tides have crossed

with much done and undone

much found and lost 

much said and silenced

much surfaced and drowned

Thought words decided to stay in the world where the pen was last put to paper

But as being sought was a corner with a lull

in the depths of sighs 

Rinsing through the muck of all the noise of the much 

There lay beneath the pile 

My words waiting, 

with half a smile of understanding

with arms extended for an embrace of knowing

with eyes that spoke straight to the soul

with the voice of the birdsong at the break of the dawn,

to come back to me...

.d