Garden of Whispers

Whispers that echo like footsteps in a canyon Softly break the cold, bleak silence Your voice is harsh and yet concerned Tinged with your secret defiance Trees of sound, with branches of quiet Line the room with graceful ease Flowers of time, with leaves of eternity Showing that time will stop, but never cease With the moon's soft pale sheen Gliding through the unopened window Gracing the room with light warmth It tells the story of it's sorrow Pushing it's way through clouded thought Reflecting off the young boys tears His soul fades, fathoms beneath his surface A voice he hasn't heard in years Is gone again, as it was Never again to return This is the price he must forever pay For the lesson he sure to learn Written March 3rd, 2002 © on Mar 03 2002 07:09 AM PST   0 • 1