I type.
Type the words that can not be spoken
But listen.
With hands thousands of words can be spoken
You don't hear, you feel
Feel the power of the words that or not on the air, but in the heart
The heart that beats the rhythm of a song
Softly I listen.
As the wind may roar, I listen
As gentle as a butterfly the words speak
The hands are no longer moving, but the words, they speak
They make the sun come out and the grass go green
These words are so powerful they move the sea
And I listen so quietly
As in a sound proof room everything is mute
But not these words
No they bounce off the walls and finally break free
I sit in a tower deserted and lost
I sit so soft and quiet I can hear the wind whisper to the water
Then a soft touch brushes my face
I smile.
These words brush my face so sweetly
And I don't move
Not a breath to disturb
But now I stand.
Stand and listen for a moment I hear, then I know
Know that the words stay embedded in my heart which only beats the rhythm of
a song
And yet still I wait
I wait so quietly and listen


 
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