ilence(A.Melleby, 07.23.14)
every day I do try to read between the lines
to enhance the time I spend with my fellow being
often I find my life haunted by the impeculiar, valueless
and tossed at sea
my thaughts are drifting off and vanishing into the etarnal
fog
the fog that covers the lake where I go to rest my feet
when this world gives me too much of what I do not want
to say that this occurs on a regular basis would not be an
understatement
it´s more like it, as a matter of fact
there are butterflies there too, many enough to fill the air
making it hard to breathe properly wihout risking inhaling
one of them
with their large, black satin wings that look like their
covered with powder
flying rapidly around changing paths every second
avoiding getting caught by predators roaming above them
although it´s a wonder how they avoid crashing into each
other
if I could speak to them, I would and in a sense, I do
we are both aware of each others excistance and respect each
others presence
nothing more and nothing less as they are all beholders of
what all great art starts with:
silence
living their entire lives in constant motion without making
a single sound
I better leave and get back to the real world and get some
more of what I do not want
there are fish in the lake as well
but that´s a different story
