woodandhoney

Lately I pretend we each live in light houses by the sea

We can only talk with cans attached by our worn string of affection

This must be why so many of our words get lost on the way from my lungs to your heart,

from your lips to my ribs

But think,

-when a little and gentle message makes it across,

think of how brave our small mouse of a message must be to travel such a journey,

The weather it bore, the storms it endured on a tight rope over waves

-But don’t feel too sad! Don’t forget how happily it skipped on the rope,

surely and deftly dancing on the days with sun above and the cool salty breeze on its fur

Think of it, when you finally have this warm and tired message in your hands, when you feel its small but strong rapid heart beat

Such a long journey to whisper my soft question to you

Tagged: poem