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spoken
Folder:
hope deferred i speak
yet hear not a word of my speaking
as a mute or a deafened man, i suppose
i think
yet contemplate not a bit of my thinking
as a truth and i am left in the know
what eyes had seen or hearing told
of wearing a ring which fitted a mold
none to do the better left undone
which spoke in sighs and cried in some
where that lady of mystery toiled in play
whispering in shouts and said just to say
"i am with you if the moon be full
or new and dark, you are within my soul."
i am not leaving now, nor ever shall i go
and of this mystery i wish you to know
tomorrow, yes, and even days yet come
i will welcome you home, my moon and my sun
if only you never leave me again
to worry and toil and spin in the wind
just a little faith now, i promise you'll see
that man that i am and all that is me
