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White Touch
poetry [ ]

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by [cam ]

2006-12-22  |     | 



When the snow becomes melancholy
You can hear the time’s steps creaking
Climb unto soul lay nearby if life hurts
Rest as near a mirror nearby the words

When the snow becomes a symphony
Thoughts are guide into a halo
Swinging out of brain with harmony
The white seasons fetch them out of shadow

Let your nails drawing on the frosted window
From the inside set free the infancy that lingers
You’ll hear then the seconds turning into vows
Like bells pendent by the children fingers

We, the starving wolves, at least for a winter
Must learn the faith and accept the chance
To bow down together with the lambs
For share the love with the forsaken shepherd


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