Gentle music
twinkling bird song
weaves through us
today and our
hearts sing back
a soft song.
Each note a color
until rainbows flame
smiling, arching,
dancing dragons in
a sky once barren.
Now we know
each gentle song
is part of the paint
of beautiful creatures
we sing stronger
our hearts full
of love –
dragon fire.
What is the
sound of death?
A rattle they say
a shaking breath.
But I think a moan
high and keen
with sharp intake
in between or
maybe just a
lonely o
a long and gliding
note that lasts
longer than
we hope
and when
it’s gone
seems brief.
In silence we
miss our grief.
I met words today
from the lady who
could not stay.
Her poem caught me
unawares- my heart
just curious turned
to care, and grieved
in loss for what it found.
For in her words
hope, life resound.
Inky Cat's Poems 