My voice is silent now,
Retreating within myself,
Groping, grasping, for fleeting
Memories to transplant in time.
I remember, I think, of times
When I would laugh and let
My feelings hover where they could spread
Their joyous wings and soar toward
The distant horizon.
Just when I thought I had them,
They would dance freely from my
Outstretched mind, and float
Slowly, softly out of sight.
There were times when I cried and,
I would sink silently, methodically
Into my room, where I could be apart
From the world, and the sadness
Would slowly transform itself
Into the warm joy of being alone.