TOO SLOW TO HEAR

I have a wound, I still can’t say where/what from,

It’s too deep to tell;

For want of a novel song, a ringing word to sing,

I have held my tongue;

It’s easier to be quiet.

Many failed attempts have passed through my fingers

To my heart (from)

My mind measures all of me by what’s best in them,

With quick and calculating eye;

It’s easier to appraise

Than to strain to believe in that higher measure.

I have a wound, I still can’t tell where/what from,

It’s still in the soil;

But you draw me steady to surface to the light,            

It’s then that I begin to heal;

I grow too slow to hear.

•

Your words are the sun.

Your words are the sun (are the rain).

Your words are the sun (I’m a seed in the dark).