deepundergroundpoetry.com
Whispering
.
You'd find me in a crowd of many, maybe countless,
reaching out,
picking me,
my hand you'd be taking,
eye's
emerald
looking
speaking in the void
many things to be true,
though it's connection be silent as whispering breeze
disguised by it's randomness to any other unwanted
traveler as they passover the me and you at its perceived
conception,
though its beginnings go back beyond there thinking,
their imagination maybe not so understanding.
But I'd not get lost,
fall
or lose my line of sight in these visions of you and I,
my reasoning beyond a satisfactory conclusion,
though the perplexity of the moment to give
worrisome thought on many a mind without
the love connection as we have found it to be
beautiful in its understanding.
You'd find me in a crowd of many, maybe countless,
reaching out,
picking me,
my hand you'd be taking,
eye's
emerald
looking
speaking in the void
many things to be true,
though it's connection be silent as whispering breeze
disguised by it's randomness to any other unwanted
traveler as they passover the me and you at its perceived
conception,
though its beginnings go back beyond there thinking,
their imagination maybe not so understanding.
But I'd not get lost,
fall
or lose my line of sight in these visions of you and I,
my reasoning beyond a satisfactory conclusion,
though the perplexity of the moment to give
worrisome thought on many a mind without
the love connection as we have found it to be
beautiful in its understanding.
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