Let it become more real

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Say it one more time
so that it becomes more real.
Touch me with your words
So that I may learn to feel.

Come words, without you
I can lose my soul.
Please words, do flow to
help achieve my goal.

Come brighten my thought and
say it the way you mean it!
Repeat what you say
the way in dreams I’ve seen it!

Let them leave sweetly
from your gentle lips,
like the bright sails
on fair weathered ships.

Say it one more time
to share your reality.
Touch me with your words-
let it last…for eternity!

Captured with words

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So much written
So many words
That sing to my soul

Like endless dreams
They stream from minds
To awaken awareness

One moment touched
The next moved
All the while enthralled

Never is there stillness
To dull emotions-
All vibrating to a dance

Rhythmic and sweet
Or burdened by sadness-
They arrive!

Here to arouse laughter
Or countless tears
They roam our minds

More than knowledge
More than wisdom
We’re made to feel

Verging on madness
Beyond logic and sense
They wondrously sing

Speaking of a truth
So pure, that time
loses meaning

With immortal visions
They inscribe beauty
In minds and hearts

Inspiring ideals
And deep love
Without end

Infinite as the universe
They timelessly flow
Into existence

Inviting us to note
Discover, examine
All of consciousness

Sparking beauty
To make old realities
Pale in comparison

They move us forward
Towards the light
Of a new dawn

the limit of words

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So much is said and written in haste,
With meanings lost in cocooned words,
That has never felt tears of sadness,
Nor tasted love, happiness or joy.
Being merely strings of letters, bound,
Imbued with only a simple kiss,
And lacking the fullness of emotions,
They pale compared to night and day.
Unable to fathom the true depth
Of sorrow, they only reflect,
An image of the ocean, a moment,
A vision, of what maybe but never
Rich enough to capture pure essence.
Never to know the glory of the sun
And the elegant beauty of the moon.
Being only cast out of straw, they will
Eventually dissipate in the mist of time.
Even when beaded together to shine,
However beautifully they may be,
The fate of words is not to be
The ocean but merely the pond.
Not to be the master of the sun,
But to live in its eternal shadow
And point towards true beauty.

J M Lysun