I have no idea from where this poem came.
I was letting my pen do all the work.
Perhaps it was channeled from Gertrude Stein?
Silence
Since silence is the word...what word is silence?
To whom do we speak in silence?
To the beating of our only heart...
Where does all this come from???
I have no idea...but here it is...
all laid our before you like garments to be worn...
When will I wear these garments???
On the day you are born...
© Skya Wode
15 December 1997
