tap, tap, tapping

water in the hand cropped.jpg

gray morning with rain spattering on the roof

tapping a harmonic rhythm to my fingers

tap, tap, taping over these keys

these keys that unlock and untangle

my words from my mind

the words that meander from my heart upward

crawling upward, seeking release

only to get stuck.

Lost.

Lost in the criticism and the judgment and the regrets

oh the regrets

of time lost, time wasted, time is slipping away

Don’t die with that book in you, I read once

What if it is not a book?

What if it is a song?

What if it is a barely formed sentence?

What if it is just one word

spoken, whispered

or tapped out on the gray morning

in harmonious rhythm to the rain

tap, tap, tapping on the roof

Cynthia LeeComment