Wordless heart pries
After our little-lead trailed swerve,
On whispers of winds, tracing a nerve,
We talk on for hours building to be heard,
A garland of strewings, word by word.
Untill our brittle-borne claimed flight,
Of ceasing a day or meanings by night,
Unmoved, unshaken, spotless and clear
Facing the truths we happen to bear.
We sit stilled gazing, knowing that none,
Word goes farther than where we’ve begun,
Wishful, indulgent, still hoping our tries,
Will bring to form, what heart pries.