Words Not Heard

When words can't be seen and smiles aren't felt, we fall onto paper and drip and melt... We spread colors of blue and grey to highlight an early morning sigh, and splash and orange tint on a late afternoon high... Late at night I will paint my sky a dark black, and with just my fingertips sprinkle stars that stay intact... When words finally return and a Poem is read, the background is my painting of colors from a dreamer not dead....