Can you help
me free the words
That live
inside my eyes
Before their
fragile whisper
Suffocates
and dies?
Help me shed
the shackles
That lock
the laughter in
And keep the
colors from my hands
As if they'd
never been.
I want to
paint the garden
That lives
within my hands.
I want to grow
the flowers
Of imaginary
lands.
But time
runs through my fingers
And slips
beyond my grasp
And courage
never lingers
It slithers
from my clasp
Until my
palette fades away
My visions
all go blind
And
searching like a beggar
I reach,
your hands to find.
For every
word you give, my friends
Is a little
drop of hope
Waking
colors in my mind
And strength
to climb the slope
Where
perhaps upon the other side
That garden
may yet grow
Beneath the
rainbow of your faith
From the
vivid seeds you sew.