I guess that this is where I want to be - <br />my lips, my hands, my face and weathered skin: <br />O press me down with tears, wash over me, <br />ravage me, hit me, remind me you're still in! <br />For everything seems clear now, in the dawn; <br />No secret bars the pilgrimage we keep, <br />or promises sweet nothings held too long, <br />like silence holding mountain snows asleep. <br />Until one flake brings winter smashing down <br />in tumbling, rumbling ice, and trembling trees. <br />The truth cries - buried! Unshared secrets drown! <br />Warm hearts concealed by waves of worries freeze... <br /> <br />Some dreamed of winds that whispered too serene <br />to ever hear another's words again.<br /><br />David Zvekic<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/font-color-880000-whispers-too-serene-font/
