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 Sunny Silence.

 

Behind that mask we carry

as a blind alley to our living

 drowning our secrets in a mighty silence

sometimes hot, sometimes cold,

splashing like crystal water, too rare

by moments for tomorrow,

while we today imbibe this virgin air .

 

We could rust in shades

or shine in our appeasing fights

between hopes and blind despair

we are pushing our lives forth in a hurry

from its lonely hardiness,

knowing we could choke before

the fields will lie still.

 

How much we ever bloom

in our convulsive tendrils creep

and round a deep root

of the bent grass where I lay

you bow over my complexion

and save me in the August sun

with white shades of pale.

 

You are the shimmer in the setting sun

A lively murmur of a summer day

 surrounded by hills  in moonlight

you still reach the corner of my heart

the red blood that rules my desire

my wills you bind in secret of thy art

without perplexity or enquires.

July 2016 ©k.c.