Words gently tumble
Through the air,
Mingling and resonating,
Generating soulful
Connection.
I suspect they
Have wandered and morphed
Before their capture.
Avoiding page and pen,
Flirting with the uncertainty
Of their creators.
They play heartstrings
With a virtuosity
Which has survived the
cowardice of youth
To be freed by
Shared tears and joy,
Years in the making.
The web of these
Bonds stretches,
Harmonic,
A symphony
Through time.
Categories: Poetry