"the true value of words"

"There is only sounds-and silences"
what we can not(do not)say threatens us
we grow smaller via distances
when brave and spruiking,crowing birdsong morning
bright and breezy,bubbling with enthusiasms
milk and quicksand later,bitter,disappointed
projected expectations shattered like a glass ceiling
In your cup of hemlock home,wormwood and root
Bitterness broods,withdraws like a hesitant army of journalists
in a war zone knowing too many atrocities.Silence fills Arlington
Bodies cannot murmur when they are buried (like rumors,like gossip)
they surface not via Wikileaks nor Youtube-
more by desire's osmotic wish to know(not "need to know"status-
we are more complete when all the picture is restored(Michelangelo-
that Sistine Chapel is still deteriorating,Yemen,Liberia,Somalian pirates
and Syria still censoring truth via government controlled outlets.
Before us-indigenous.Perhaps they listened to their grandmother wisdom
Perhaps they listened to women and children,fools ,poets,madmen
Perhaps this song was filtered from the wind,or from the fracked fractured waters
I do not know.I know only it is better to sing than to shout
and in each song a facet of a diamond truth reveals itself