Words settled on him like a mist
He soaked them through his skin
Inhaled them deep into his lungs
And gathered them within
He breathed them back into the world
All swirling, colored smoke
Stained with the ink etched on his soul,
He painted when he spoke.
– s. Clark
January 18, 2015 at 11:14 pm
Makes me think of MLK’s vivid oratory…thanks friend.
January 19, 2015 at 2:19 am
Thank you so much! It is a truly wonderful compliment that something I wrote would make you think of such an amazing man and speaker