Thursday, May 14, 2015

Israel.

Dust clings to my fingers
As they traverse the keys
The gray falls not into my hair, but my eyes
Still I'm listening, waiting for you

"The background noise makes your voice hard to hear."
I build a rain catcher
And contemplate the melody of storm water as it falls

Free
Shake the dust
I'm buried deep in me
Help me find a dream
Somewhere out in the petrichor

Hey, don't you let go now.
She reaches past the waterfall
To fasten my aching fingers to the rope
Just hold on and I swear
You'll feel it,
Feel yourself lifted


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