I pretend as much.
Holding this pencil to an old dead tree
as if god Himself carved it
out of sunlight
to fit in my hand alone.
I do not believe
that at any moment She will
whisper the Big One
direct into my brain
and send my hand scribbling across this page.
Or that anyone other than you
will ever read a word of this.
It just isnt important anymore.
I do not know that it ever was.
And if I never write another word
I want you to understand
That to me my life has been a parable
of the smallest actions
and the greatest joys
It has been a proverb
Of exhalation.
of
Breathing
Out
That which
I desire
Most.
[ 05 October 2002: Message edited by: vocab ]
Holding this pencil to an old dead tree
as if god Himself carved it
out of sunlight
to fit in my hand alone.
I do not believe
that at any moment She will
whisper the Big One
direct into my brain
and send my hand scribbling across this page.
Or that anyone other than you
will ever read a word of this.
It just isnt important anymore.
I do not know that it ever was.
And if I never write another word
I want you to understand
That to me my life has been a parable
of the smallest actions
and the greatest joys
It has been a proverb
Of exhalation.
of
Breathing
Out
That which
I desire
Most.
[ 05 October 2002: Message edited by: vocab ]
