has it been that long
that my eyes no longer see
the delicate movement of the wind
as it brushes across the grass
the subtle play of the passing clouds
constantly changing as they drift along
the tell tale signs of your ever changing awareness
as it brushes across your face
there is so much to be read
when one has a command of the unspoken language
words of the inner knowing
has it been that long
that my ears no longer hear
the truth behind every uttered sound
it is in the simple and the obvious
and cannot be hid
unless I allow it to be
has it been that long
that my mouth no longer speaks
with the delicacy of the wind
with the subtlety of a changing cloud
have I locked up my words
into frozen blocks of ideation
can my face still reveal
the true depth of my being
and can you read it
when I show you