as soon as you stop to listen(as soon as you stop.
people turn into flowers(stories turn in to gardens
revealing weeds and storms,seeds and sagas
Thin saplings from family branches become oaks of trust
Every word golden.Every life made from dust.Scrape off pasts
and hear them in your auricles while they bloom-
whether tall sunflower solitaries or bee nectaring .Soon,another moon
will pass over .We will turn in to stories ourselves-
how we listened like seashells on the beaches of oceans
How we rolled into depths of waves and saw Sirens and Mermaids.
How,touched by sweetness and stars,we became more than paper doll people
Cardboard spines became short stories,became tall,became books of true adventures
And we all became forests,sharing canopy and foliage,green and golden
And we listened as stars glisten,polishing Heavens..