Your heart beats
And my heart beats.
I can’t hear it
And I seldom hear my own
But I know it’s true.

The sky is blue.
And if you rise above the clouds
They sometimes look like Mountains.
The untroubled space,
stretching for miles
Makes you wish you could
Live there.

You can not walk on air.
And these things hurt
The changing of the truth
Into a lie
And, an invitation to live
In desolate lands.

The sands blow across the desert
Even when there’s no one there
To see it happening
It tells of our unimportance.
It releases us from our
self appointed duty
in judgement of the world.

© PlainJane, 2004 (all rights reserved)