sense

When you look outside, is it cold we both see?
Can we hear the sadness,
feel the pain of the half cut tree there?
We should have listened to what colours tell us;
I didn’t see where music took you to,
nor did you sense my joy in books I read.
But now. Now that we can look further.
Sense the world, live till the outmost.
Look outside now, feel it all.
I see cold, do you see it too?

Comments on: "sense" (5)

  1. The pain of a half cut tree!

  2. A melancholy piece, I think, about a lack of real connection – the coldness outside … (So glad your eye surgery went alright, Ina. XO)

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