I’m waiting for the song the song
of words to fill my mouth
with shapes to scratch on paper
for you to read and hear inside
your head
please sing for me
I can’t hear the sounds that flow
out of my pen and make a mark
where I have been
until you tell me what you read
on the page that I gave you
it’s a strange sound
these songs are a calligraphy of sorts
about you and me and love sometimes
but I wonder if I really mean it and you ask
if it’s only the structure of a word or two
or is it the sound of my heart coming out
in the only way I know how to say things
that aren’t clumsy mumblings
but look like elegance on paper
how much is real?
I hope the song the song
when it comes into my mouth
and finds its way into a shape
I can scratch on paper
is a sound you can hear inside and read
and sing for me
clear notes and truth
© Frank Prem, 2000
