soulyonmyown: January 2013

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Friday, January 18, 2013

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

My dear friend,
I've wanted to speak to you for such a long time.
But you see, the words wouldn't flow. I'd say,
words are like a mellow wine to me.
The flavour of words touches my mind,
colour sparkles as if poured into a crystal glass,
and, oh, how it shines.

Now, these words are just between you and me.
Others wouldn't understand. How often I've tried,
to explain. It was possibly a foolish thing to try to do.
But you, why you accept my words, my dreams,
good or bad, and help me, mould them into a life.

Over the years, over the phone, I've often poured,
my heart out to another. If the person's mind was in
worse chaos than mine, I despaired at ever being heard,
but when there was less chaos, in the soul
of the other, for a second, drops of healing, poured like oil,
over my sorrows, invisible pearls of wisdom cascaded
over and into me, and would light my way.

Trish 16/1/13