Questions Run In Lines of Ink

Perhaps new colors and a pocketful of delight is what you wish for
When the only thing you would do is tear them to pieces
Slowly but surely you simply drink up your dreams
As they stand up before you questioning
Your thirsty heart’s seams

You ask me to put the light of our sun on the vines of your life
Then cry when the mist on their leaves becomes dry
So while we debate whether to open doors
What we ignore now becomes huge
Yet we still wonder why

Questions run in lines of ink until silence deafens what is complete
Because no sooner are they composed, you surrender
Wondering if you tried your best to know
If chaos could be trusted at all
With a heart so tender

This is what remains when your heart forgets an unspoken kindness
A faint murmur that can hold much more than you realize
It is always ready to give your thirsty heart a drink
When debating whether to open doors
To those lines of ink

Reviews

[Jeremy Wyatt]

Such sad, gentle wistfulness Neva, and such resonance for me.
I read so many of your poems, and often they make me uneasy that I might do some of the careless or thoughtless things you can touch upon...Your poems make me think hard I guess.
I am trying to get through a biiiig pile of read requests, taking me a while but there are such treasures here :o)

[Lilly Negoi]

"You ask me to put the light of our sun on the vines of your life
Then cry when the mist on their leaves becomes dry"
splendid Neva! just splendid!

[Jvl narasimharao]

Your lines of ink will live for posterity and eternity.I wonder how write a poem after a poem so beautifully with so many images.
yoursJVL

[Art]

this is interesting Neva...and it can be read and reviewed in different ways, the simplist is a relationship and the deeper is the one who delves into the message between the lines...you paint more that ink my friend...

nice work...

[Aidz]

Love the flow of this Neva, and the feelings that belie this write....

Tis more than one type of ink ;-)