The door is open, but you do not see,
The eyes are blind because you want them to be.
Help does not come and you wither away,
Lost for words? Or is there nothing to say?
Gather the springtime air, forfeit life’s breath,
Dwindling lights near darkness leading unto death,
Time disappears when the shadows fall,
It is a great distance and you hear an owl call.
Rise up. Let sleep not find you under a spell,
A penny for your thoughts among the wishing well.
The potion nigh will give you a deep fright,
And with it, I bid you safekeeping and goodnight.
© Cynthia Clark
Thank you, Lee, for reading, and your comment. I think it is a pretty true statement. Often we are lost and do not know the right words. Then there are times we have nothing to say.
Wonderfully well written.
"Lost for words? Or is there nothing to say?" … those words hit me perfectly.