“Hush child. You know
there are those days
when the words
stretch, like lacy tree
branches, but can’t
quite reach,
to find and make meaning.
Let them be, but listen
as they whisper
between themselves
of wind and soft breezes.
Wrap and rock themselves
to a different lullaby
sigh in soft contentment
to just be
without your need
to be heard.
If you give them that freedom,
I promise,
they will return.”
Elizabeth Crawford 11/13/2017
Posted at Micropoetry: November 2017
https://thotpurge.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/micropoetry-month-nov-2017-13/
Soul's Music 
Yes they do come back… like strangers or lovers..but they do return! Thanks for sharing!
LikeLike
This is beautiful. And so true. The words always do return. I love the way these ones of yours did.
LikeLike
I like this space to be given, to just be and wait. Nice.
LikeLike
a lovely contemplation, and how well the words have been returned to you through this poem
much love…
LikeLike