He Speaks Through Me

as a seed was dropped into the atmosphere it took root as I grew although those many years have passed still I have every reason to grasp the mere notion of a whisper and that of a smile to know all the great while the Willows tree waves through the breeze he speaks through me when time is rough and its hard to commerce in little things that the mere sadness brings in view of a thrill as in Autumn the climax of the leaves turning the human hearts are forever burning onto yearning amidst life's tragedy & pain the melodic fixture on the wall seems to me ten feet tall wild union of the Albatross as it nestles in the warmth of the sky very often in my dream he is there as a figure to embrace the lonely heart of faith with its twists and turns one soul soars while the other is soon to be burned braided green ivy dashes out on the spectrum of the patio teaching me pleasant things in the way I should go can't even cope to dismiss this earthly bliss in a time well spent in thought with rain that implodes on my head to insight forgetting the night and the day is far spent there is great beauty in his eyes one hand to hold a heart will mend slowly we grow to depend on pleasant laughter prepared for the great here after one in twain yet marked on its blotted page clearly intact silence is golden when we need a shoulder to cry a passerby wanders alone in the night snap shot memories of our past having so much fun with a hope that it would last as he sits enthroned in light of illumination of the heavenlies suddenly I grasp for breath onto the mere notion of love love is the pure essence of my meager existence learn to shun its resistance out of every circumstance let's learn to take part in the dance wholesome brevity of the way things used to be amidst a blatant lonely society it's still inside of me the madness of my thickened conquest all of life seems to be a test as if blackened holes filled with dots everything is captured in a thought many people just tend to think a lot yet life is a wave filtered in a dream where people tend to scream perhaps we are plants ready to blossom in the sun others live in some paradox filled with fun He speaks to e when in the night being so very cold then you will do as you are told until the very rights to you are sold blessings flow through his small but still voice all of life is but a choice many equate logic for that in fear but he still brought me here some if not many reak the very stench of death left as road kill yet he is there in the midst in order to avoid a Satanic twist what is my last heart felt final wish ? Jesus