the words

they call to me




begging to be written

i must heed their calls


of people

who do not exist

echo in my ears


a steeple

i cannot resist

strike within me fears


who weep the will

whose jot persists

pleading urgent tears


begging to be born

writ upon the page

from a notebook torn


i can see them now

dancing on mind’s stage

wanting to come out

light and darkness

blend with voice

from seeds of sound

and light they sprout

they demand

that they be seen

beyond brain’s screen

and heard from in

a stream of words

i wake halfway

my thoughts they stray

and mingle with the dream

but then

i wake again

realize the voices

their whispered choices

all were real

the first waking

was the dream

i was immersed

within the stream

as this onion

deeper peels

these people

slowly it reveals

the voices

all rehearsed

born within

from memories

each one steals

the visions

of future passed

ripple through the past

reflected voices

all their joy says

echoes by so fast

all their murmurs

are not jurors

which faint dreams shall last

what leaks forth

from these scenes

within the heart is clasped

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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