On the Threshold of Silence
In all the noise my quiet voice isn't heard.
How can it matter what I say?
A fool, I leave recorded written word
to speak my truth to some, someday.
Realize that my eyes see uncommon visions
that my mind seeks to find unlikely decisions
my style seems reviled, but it's not that on purpose
what I know doesn't show on my nondescript surface.
How can I tell
in words that you can hear
what isn't always clear
notes of refrain
jumbled with pain
I must be insane
voices
within my inner ear
keeping me guessing
burden or blessing
of course you don't care
Just more notes on the air.
Weaving into the aether
absorbed in the atmosphere
inspiration I'm aching to share
is already everywhere
You never heard it from me.
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