Words

Words

Words cut the stillness. Flinty, piercing shocks,
like the clatter of hooves on stone, striking sharp,

fiery, sparks of meaningless chatterings
Sparks flying on the air, igniting dried dusty minds

Ideas galloping high, shouting over each other.
In the race, none heard, none heeded

Disappointed the fire dies. Thoughts unnoticed
lay forgotten, charred, burned-out embers

Loose the reins, head bowed low. Quiet.
A spark stirs in the stillness. A light

rises from the ashes into the silence,
into desire for You, nothing is said, nothing is heard

Jackie, July 2014

words