What You Hear Is Me

I want to speak a language, of love I keep for you

like the wet, that whispers to the grass, in early morning dew

like flowers that speak to gardens, in rain bowed colored row

like winters that hush the sleepy world, in softly falling snow

I want to speak a lanquage, of love that keeps the key

like the poet who bleeds in ink, the birth of poetry

like composer lending voice, to instrument at his wait

like the painter moving paint ,from palate to his plate

I want to speak a lanquage, beyond all that it must say

as a heart that drinks of love to keep the thirst away

as life that begs the daily air, in need that never ends

as memory speaks to shadows, of everywhere that I've been

I want to speak a language, that will keep you when I go

one that only you can hear, whose author you will know

words that speak of promise and of love that keeps the key

your love the key, unlock the words, they are the spoken me.