When the words don’t come,
it is a night without the horizon glowing
the grandeur of the universe’s footsteps
No starlight
No moongleam
To touch off apparitions of wonder
the taste of windswept jasmine creates, it
effervesces and dissipates
A cohesive coherence lost
like a sound without an echo within
when the words don’t come


7:03 am
23 May 2012