Whispers On a Vine

When you turn your head to time Do you listen to whispers on a vine? Sounds that may mean no Voices that tell you yes A whistle when it is time to go What are these whispers on a vine? Are they strangers passing by? Are you too afraid to ask them why? Noises too noisy to hear Your silence and quiet Replaced by violence and riot Who is it that whispers on a vine? Your parents, brothers and sisters? Friends, well wishers and keepers? What do they whisper? To do things, to loose things, to make things Whispers that tell you Of winning, defeating, choosing and loosing How will you know when you are not listening? Whatever the whisper whatever the vine The effort to listen is neither yours nor mine We who are walking, no, we who are stalking Following behind the whispers found on a vine We think we see where we go We think we see where we’ve been What is it to listen if we only have eyes? How without hearing will we determine the lies? Will you heed a whisper on a vine? You may from a lover who shares your mind But heed only whispers that you heed with your heart It takes more than vision and it takes more than wishin To think only of hearing will hardly afford a start You require firm standing and hands at the ready With whispers you must grasp and hold them quite steady Finally you’ve caught one and now may ask it: “oh whisper, that comes and goes, hold one moment, for I seek answers no one yet knows. If you grant me this favor I may still yet reward you. The single request I pray you, whisper your whisper just a bit louder? ”