Sunday, December 19, 2010

When Morning Goes Clairovoyant

The sky is coming
prisoners of sound
the slate is on its way

Freedom abounds
nothing you cannot say
all will be wiped clean away

That is the gift
no consequence given
forgiveness as wide as the sky

Prepare now your tones
the music is endless
illusions to hold and let go

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Your poetry is deep and powerful, Bill. It's not something to skim over but to chew on for a while. This one made me think of the fact that every word spoken, every sound uttered is out there in the cosmos. As is forgiveness.