When the Warblers Sing
by Bruce • August 26, 2021 • Writings • 0 Comments
I was waiting for an answer
For a sign or for a call
For something to reaffirm that
this had meant something after all
But all I heard was the waiting
Daily traffic on the street
Summer heat evolving
Into winter sleet
Silence had its reasons
Too deep to comprehend
Too many words and feelings
That led us to pretend
I wondered where you landed
I wondered what went wrong
I wondered why I worried
Every time I heard that song
I wondered why I wasn’t
Enough for you to stay
Enough for you to be content
Enough for you to say
Silence has its seasons
This isn’t supposed to end
But I haven’t yet found healing
From all the places I have been
Now, when I see the sunshine
And lupine in the spring
When I smell the clover
And when the warblers sing
I wonder why I couldn’t
Keep you close at hand
And say the things I needed
To make this love withstand
That
Silence with its treasons
And sorrow with its stings
The sentences unspoken
And confidence unwinged
Your need to be so distant
And drifting out to sea
Your need to be away from here
And far away from me
I wondered why I couldn’t
Keep you close at hand
And say the things I needed
To help you understand
To make you feel protected
To keep you safe and free
To have a quiet hiding place
Deep inside of me
Now, when I see the sunshine
And the lupine in the spring
I wonder why you had to go
When the warblers sing