Beautiful words waft through your brain
By the hot air of chatter,
Some words stick to the branches, clinging on,
Kept on by the force of repeated conversation.
But when you want to pluck that leaf
From the tree of your mind
And bring it to your lips-
It floats away into the night.
It takes another conversation gust
To bring the leaf back to the tree
And though the branches are stronger now,
It still quivers in its struggle to stay.
But, one day
When it comes back again,
You grab it,
Determined to not let it go this time.
But, of course, you are only human,
You can only hold onto it so long
With that slippery grip,
And with so many words beating against the tree,
Daily, hourly,
How long can it stay in your hands?
You've just got to hope
That by the time you have to let it go,
A tiny, permanent word bud
Has started to grow.
