Wednesday, June 24, 2009


Some nights the words seem not to flow
and my thoughts never seem to form

My mind cannot think
and my hands cannot write

My heart so overwhelmed with things
with love, distress and misery

My spirit pours forth in floods
yet my soul cannot grasp it at all

Why can I not communicate with my Self?
Why can one feel and the other not understand?

Who is this Self that show and cannot tell?
And the other half that can barely tell at all?

A compromise at least!
Only then will come prose like revelry!

But my heart and mind have not met
My spirit and my soul remain unacquainted

Burdens so great!
And words so few...

It is the difference between a great rainfall
and the softest morning dew...

Tell of my love
and tell of it all

Speak! O heart,
Write! dear hands!

Feel all you do,
Speak as unbridled as you feel!

Tell without restraint, all you now know

© copyright by Michèle Aimée Lahaie, 2009