Monday Poem: A Form of Silence

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A Form of Silence

All these words are little more
than another form of silence.
The world takes our voices

and scatters them on the winds,
so all our words become
little more than soft breezes

rustling the leaves and grass
and billowing the curtains.
The words are lost on the winds,

taken by the breezes and spread
through the valleys around us,
lost in the dark-shadowed woods

and flowing along the streams
that flow rivers out into the sea.
We have spoken of many things

from universes to sand grains
and now our words are lost
while we are almost forgotten.