Words

Do words inspire
When spoken in the soft shadows,
Of the veiled darkness?
Are the lips that utter,
The Holy Grail to wholesomeness.
When shredded or shrouded
In somnolence,
Are words, then,
A solace?
Does silence amplify thoughts?
And words, merely a poor interface
Between intent of fact
And extent of act ?
Should you look at the yellow eyes of the owl
As it lies awake,
A sentinel to your clouds?
Or should you let the bat,
Flap it's black wings and fly-
Carrying thoughts unsaid
Into the night sky?
Would you trust the blood moon
With it's black orb like craters
Showing a certain destiny?
Do you then see,
The shapeless reflection
Of words shared-
In and around you-
As they smile benignly?