21 Mar


These words, like water,
flow from my tongue,
and spill onto the page
in a deluge of thought,
often in chaotic disarray,
until they are assembled
with inevitable passion,
and sometimes in pain,
to express unimaginable,
miraculous and dreamlike,
or merely the mundane;
and how oft have I written
of that which is unspoken,
and cannot be explained;
tho’ these are merely words,
and I am merely mortal man,
without the power to create,
but merely, and perhaps,
when justice quantifies it,
that I may impart meaning;
and whether these words
are then to be understood,
only time may eschew;
yet, still I write, and still,
in both passion and pain,
the words continue to fall
untasked from my mind,
as ceaseless summer rain
in unending consumption.


Posted by on March 21, 2016 in My Poetry



2 responses to “Words

  1. Kunal Thakore

    March 21, 2016 at 6:32 am

    Beautiful, Daniel! Ceaseless summer rain…. wow!

    Liked by 1 person


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