Words

Words, words those mystic words, 
like heaven's sweet mockingbirds.
Mocking me, for the words I see and cannot see. 
The words unseen on picture screens, 
empty canvases, secret words between.
Between the sheets where lovers meet, 
where dreams drum songs to hearts that beat.
Lovers beating and mistreating the ones they love,
with words that fell from portals above.
in the heart God wrote words so deep,
no truer words can any man speak.
Those words kept secret between the lines 
on precious stone tablets those words Devine.
In the conception of the poet's mind,
those words appear in scripted time.
Those words the sinner is forced to confess, 
that doom his soul to eternal unrest.
The faithful words that trust their speakers, 
to be placed in ears of restless seekers.
Where are those seekers? The child like creatures. 
That frolic in the pages of ancient law keepers.
Words that help construct well inventions,
to conceal our true intentions.
Passages that lead through open door,
to unknown worlds to explore.
Finally these words I put to rest, 
to retire from this grueling quest.

Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2018

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