In a place where whispers paint the air,
I tread on paths of unknown ground,
Faces stare with cautious care,
As if my footsteps make a sound.
Their eyes, a fortress built on doubt,
Among the smiles, a silence found,
A stranger seeks his way about.
I tread on paths of unknown ground,
Faces stare with cautious care,
As if my footsteps make a sound.
Their eyes, a fortress built on doubt,
Among the smiles, a silence found,
A stranger seeks his way about.
The streets, familiar to their kin,
A map of life they comprehend,
Yet here I stand, outside, looking in,
Their glances through me, never bend.
Their stories echo, tales well known,
In shadows, I become a blend,
A stranger’s voice, a muted tone.
A map of life they comprehend,
Yet here I stand, outside, looking in,
Their glances through me, never bend.
Their stories echo, tales well known,
In shadows, I become a blend,
A stranger’s voice, a muted tone.
The shops and homes, they weave a tale,
Of history in each brick laid,
Yet my own story, none avail,
To share, to hear, no bond is made.
I walk in solitude’s embrace,
Through lanes where memories parade,
A stranger in this storied place.
Of history in each brick laid,
Yet my own story, none avail,
To share, to hear, no bond is made.
I walk in solitude’s embrace,
Through lanes where memories parade,
A stranger in this storied place.
The gatherings at dusk, they cheer,
A dance of old, a song, a drink,
But in their midst, I disappear,
A ghost within the common link.
Their laughter rings, a chime of gold,
In hearts united, I just think,
A stranger, watching joy unfold.
A dance of old, a song, a drink,
But in their midst, I disappear,
A ghost within the common link.
Their laughter rings, a chime of gold,
In hearts united, I just think,
A stranger, watching joy unfold.
The children play, their laughter pure,
In fields where dreams and daisies grow,
But I remain, a shadowed blur,
An unknown figure they forego.
Their innocence, a guarded fence,
A line my weary heart won’t know,
A stranger’s quest for relevance.
In fields where dreams and daisies grow,
But I remain, a shadowed blur,
An unknown figure they forego.
Their innocence, a guarded fence,
A line my weary heart won’t know,
A stranger’s quest for relevance.
The church bells toll, a call to prayer,
In pews where secrets often spill,
Yet though I kneel, I’m unaware,
Of prayers they whisper, hopes they fill.
Their faith, a circle closed so tight,
In sacred halls, I find no thrill,
A stranger in the soft twilight.
In pews where secrets often spill,
Yet though I kneel, I’m unaware,
Of prayers they whisper, hopes they fill.
Their faith, a circle closed so tight,
In sacred halls, I find no thrill,
A stranger in the soft twilight.
The nights grow long, the stars are bright,
A canopy of endless skies,
But even under such a light,
I see the distance in their eyes.
Their dreams entwine in woven threads,
While mine, adrift, in silence lies,
A stranger in their shared homesteads.
A canopy of endless skies,
But even under such a light,
I see the distance in their eyes.
Their dreams entwine in woven threads,
While mine, adrift, in silence lies,
A stranger in their shared homesteads.
In quiet corners, I find peace,
A solace in the still of night,
Where echoes of their talkings cease,
And dreams take on a different light.
I build my hope, a fragile thing,
In moments free from wary sight,
A stranger’s heart begins to sing.
A solace in the still of night,
Where echoes of their talkings cease,
And dreams take on a different light.
I build my hope, a fragile thing,
In moments free from wary sight,
A stranger’s heart begins to sing.
With time, a smile might break the mold,
A hand extended, firm and true,
A story shared, a warmth unfold,
A bond between the old and new.
In hesitant and gentle ways,
Acceptance blooms, a seedling grew,
A stranger’s journey through the maze.
A hand extended, firm and true,
A story shared, a warmth unfold,
A bond between the old and new.
In hesitant and gentle ways,
Acceptance blooms, a seedling grew,
A stranger’s journey through the maze.
For every heart, a place, a time,
Where strangers turn to friends at last,
Where bridges build in softest rhyme,
And shadows of the past are cast.
In every town, a chance, a start,
A future freed from what’s surpassed,
A stranger finds his place, his part.
Where strangers turn to friends at last,
Where bridges build in softest rhyme,
And shadows of the past are cast.
In every town, a chance, a start,
A future freed from what’s surpassed,
A stranger finds his place, his part.
-
Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: July 10th, 2024 21:09
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
We need to earn our place, may you have found yours.
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