Listening to every heart
The Art of It All
[dedicated to Hoot_Owl_RN]
It is now left to my deft imagination
the words you leave behind ~
I can take each one and all apart
thus making every one of them mine.
It is not like a painting rare
nor like a videotape
I can separate the stanzas fine
and in them find escape.
I can sing the lyrics in my mind
or whisper them soft and low
I could yell them to the universe
or read them as a fiery glow.
I may shiver at their dark intent
or blush from the vision sprung,
perhaps despair is what you meant,
or a recall of my days when young.
But do believe, no matter what you do
I shall cherish the words of you ~
for the Art of you and your Words
leave to my imagination things unheard.
Ruth, thank you for all you've done, written, said, responded to, and for being such a wonderful friend.
1 June 2000
Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow