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words stumble on the threshold
so close, so close to air
so close to being spoken,
so close to taking shapes
that cannot be undone
so nearly a creation
of what new world?
do they stumble out of shyness?
out of nerves, of hot excitement
longing to be free
to sing a paradise of textures
to paint joy across the sky.
are they weighted with compassion?
or with pain? Phoenix tears
that heal all wounds and lead to smiles
or acid fumes that cut and bead
the world with copper scented blood.
There is no way to know.
They stumble on the threshold of my lips
and fall beneath the lens of others' minds
that call them raw, or rich, or empty
making love or pain in equal measure
fitting them to needs that fill a moment
so far removed from me
their echoes are like strangers
wearing my face.

Beautiful...funnily enough it created silence in me...reflection rather than words...

Powerful! Great topic for a poem. Words are our curse and our healing.

Morning Lady B .........

Long time no see Hope an Ocean is still breathing and winds are whisper

Just a quick interruption BB..did you ever figure out that fish???

The consensus was some type of air breathing catfish..but nothing definite was established. life is full of interesting questions

I liked it a lot bajanblue.....I kinda feel the same way right now when I sit down to write. You certainly expressed yourself from the core in a meaningful way. I can totally identify with being on the threshold, right on the cusp but just can't find it....thinking too much in a sense...