Something sounds so vague and,
like a lump of clay, needs shaping
into whatever brings happiness or
is just pleasing to the eye and ear.
Something ~ left alone and ignored will
dry up, and in the distance of time, loses meaning and substance.
Something is like the fence for
ivy that creeps with tiny feet;
a wall of stone with blossoms frothing from cracks and crevices, or links of wire for blackberries that ripen, cling and climb.
Something is a cloud in the sky
looking up, there are
rabbits, dragons or only a cloud
stretched across the horizon.
Something is a tree named elm or oak
until a passerby says hello and pats
its gnarly trunk imbuing it with
the personality of a friendly guardian
granting us shade from the hot sun or
blessing the ground with pink ‘snow’ at blossom time.
Something is a vehicle by land, sea or air that
whisks us away to where ever we want to go
~ in a meander down a country lane to see what we can see,
past fields of heavy headed grain, herds of cattle, or flocks of sheep
or travels to other lands to see castles, windmills and history.
We are all somethings among the rocks, trees and animals
and when something joins us all together that
we can cherish or dismiss or worse yet, ignore
when something disastrous happens,
our precious somethings crumble to ash and darkness.
I prefer my something to be
bright, warm and all around me so
I can see, hear and touch
somethings that are
glorious or maybe just nice.
“You are the silence between the notes. The white space between
the letters. The missing that makes everything else a something.”
~ pleasefindthis (pen name of Iain S. Thomas),
I Wrote This For You: Just the Words
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