Quiet Thought

My hands often sing to a melody
My mind often dreams in sleep to create
My soul often screams to me live boldly
My heart often brings truth I rarely take
When all is calmly dark I often speak
Softly in the night for my pen to wake
When in return answers I often seek
Seldom but I all alone claim my state
My tongue echoes delicate woven thread
It is fragile demanding my respect
My voice showers words watering my bed
Still and sweet they comfort my promised debt
And though whispered vitally is my art
My verse from my sullen heart cannot part

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