SPEAK-to speak is to listen to one's inner demons mock thy self.
do the trees manufacture the happiness the shade brings upon child's brow on a summer's day?
does the finch have to solve the Spring's unique mysteries before she spreads her wings, or is in her soul to just fly?
does the night joke with the day when he unplugs her lamp from the sky's electrical outlet?
does the wolf joke at the moon with it's song of love and paws in snow?
do the war machines part the clouds in the sky while the sun drapes her lonely smile upon the dance of death?
no.......yes.........maybe?
the dark knight has bowed his sword if winter upon our sullen chests in the forest of tommorow for one last hoop-la in the barn of life...listen to it's animals tap thier feet...or hooves.
thank you.
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