My notebooks are full of sorrow.

each word i write
i write on the mist that appears

before a new sky opens.


where someone once came and sat
just like me
looking for the next word.
where someone once prayed
from his solitude
before he became a bird.

i sit
i sit with my words
my sisters of freedom.
And listen to what they tell me.

when there's no where else to go
there's still a quiet place in the arms of the night.

My words take me
to sit here
in the same place as yesterday
to displace the light in the moonlight.

a letter made from silence
is all i've got for you now

but,
if i could see clearly
through this profound silence that surrounds me
i could tell you how i spend my days.
Its been a long time since i've seen your face

Autumn is here,
and the early morning
is still on my pillow.