There're so many voices calling

Some with words happy, others sad

I've nothing specific to write or share

Just fleeting memories of my past

From the dungeons of hurt and pain

I can bore out the water's of golden ray

Leaving behind the mrky still

That fetches nothing but it stinks

Would you care to join my journey

To a nowherewhere land of plenty

Plenty of hopes, desires, wishes and goodness

To bring us back to days of plenty

 

These mysterious voices of the night

The barking dogs and hissing Winds

The water trickling from a leaking faucet 

Creating an altogether an eerie feeling

The streets are bare and empty

As if mourning the death of devils

Such a splendid way to celebrate

A divine knocking skill

 

Will you care to read these words

What would you observe

Some empty voices

Voicing emptiness whole

Or the cries of the dying humanity

At the altars of Memphis gold

 

The thoughts do pass by with out an alarm

Unlike a passing train that shouts it's presence nearby

Or when the wolf shouts seeking the crescent above

With a disdainful look of failure 

Never to receive what it loved to aspire for

 

There're plants that sleep in outside cold

Shivering petals dance to the rhythms of snow

Trying to keep the fire of love burning within

To provide them the warmth required to live through

These winter nights are a torture for every flower that blooms

Unless they have a mate to hold them in arms too tightly too

Never letting go no matter how fragile and ailing weak the stems be

This lesson of unconditional love that plants and trees teaches us for free

 

Let the freezing floor send a chil to our bone

Creating a passion within for warming feelings

Thoughts that were frozen emotions 

May start to leak with the glowing grace in the morning

Not seeking protection, nor sharing any warmth

Just a coziness to enjoy, this little hour of a deafening early morning