softer pieces…

And he softens me
if only it is in memory
can it be though 
his soul spoke 
clearly to mine 
a language from old perhaps 
yet everything else in his realm
is alien…I see patterns and colors 
that do not correspond and I’m 
lost to understanding 
lost to the art of his silence
In the stillness 
I hear his music
the sounds that fall quiet
to the world except from 
my device corded to my own ears
he once shared with me
and I began to see quilting
pieces correlating
waiting to form a whole…
the softer pieces still


2 thoughts on “softer pieces…

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