If you could only see me from the inside out...running in a field of flowers amid the morning dew...Supping white wine inside my thoughts...if only
Friday, September 16, 2011
Can't You Hear My Echo
A silence falls as if each part of creation is waiting. The trees are reaching toward skies of blue while the sun yawns with its yellow mouth. Somewhere in the distance a fire lives and breathes; I feel the roar from its crackling conversation. Clearly, the garden gate swings as a shadow on my garden wall. Can't you hear my echo calling you? This echo without two voices.