Early morning quiet
is as thick as the darkness
that explores the world at night.
Thoughts and words that were
shared so vibrantly through the day
to a whisper
the moon longs to hear-
And so, that glowing sphere grows
pushing her nose
into the shadows
to hear the secrets of the sun.
But as she grows she brightens
and in turn, frightens
the shadows who, from her,
run and hide and play
keeping in the early morning quiet-
the secrets of the day.
I recently read an article (and I wish I could remember what it was) that said that people are more apt to make a dream succeed if they don’t tell anyone about it. This is the opposite of what I’d heard before, but I thought it was kind of an interesting notion. It got me thinking…and ultimately writing…this:
Show no one where your dreams reside,
keep them safe and alive inside,
meeting every pulse of your beating heart
which knows, intimately, each and every part
of every hope you’ve dared to give
the will to grow and dream and live.
But to give voice to those things
would be the same as giving them wings
to fly off and up and away,
be it night or day,
to land upon some other’s heart,
and there, perhaps,
is a curious thing
through days and lives,
through years and nights-
Each day links with the one before
in a steady march toward
Since time began
the answer has hung
just beyond our reach.
It’s as if life has a lesson to teach,
but one we can not know-
I hope it’s so.