Gravity has a time to tell us stories. I am walking in the woods of my words.

Lush language dipped in velvet and seeds of experience to share with others.

Your Voice

Wiggling
Shifting in the chair
I inched closer to a thought
I had lost
I think it was your voice
Tinkling
Calling my brain
to a soft place I loved
Where birds spoke to me
And I wrote poetry in a closet
You always
Lift me on clouds of philosophy
And contemplative wings
Where I drift
Closer to my creativity
And hear my own voice.
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2 comments:

  1. kimmanleyort31 March 2012 at 17:15

    You do that for me. :)

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  2. Sandra15 November 2012 at 03:26

    So nice to visit you here, Norah. I found you through the image and poem that Kim used on today's email!
    How lovely: "I am walking in the woods of my words" and I have met you walking through those same woods!
    May your day be full of beauty.
    Sandra

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