Slight as I might
My memory serves me well
It’s a day made of many
Oh how many suns rise
And disguise the hearts turned gray
I’m a low flying aeroplane
Buzzing the homes while they sleep
I’m a hum and shhhh at the beginning of a clock winding
Mighty winds bellow and discord
Hurries through the minds
Take all the time for yourself
Take a moment to stop
It’s all a pulse; a whisper
It’s getting harder to remember
What quiet sounds like
It’s getting all the more difficult
To understand true peace
A bird once flew on her way
Knowing the place was hers to create
How many cities have captured the creative minds of all who think on life.
