Into the arms of a September skye  of rusting moons and dripping stars  I lay my heart  into the palms of time  beneath this rain  long enough to bleed a poem for you. The light has opened with it's broken skye  as the drops fall down to lighten my soul  nothing is certain , as I remember  the little girl who sat by the window  with dreams in her childlike hands  watching the chalk drawings  on cracked pavement  washing away.  I wish to bring her back sometimes  just so I can remember  for it's been so long since  I've dreamed like a child  But the days are gone from there  and these dreams I hold  become my stronghold , and my longing  to a place where I am held by only four walls  that tonight , bare such silence. I hold the candle still  a flicker that burns , even now  and in my crowded room of darkness  I am nothing but this heart   Bleeding of poetry  from my gentle hand of flesh and bone-  Reaching still , across this broken skye  Should my hopes merge into this universe  may it bloom a rose , or root a tree  into the visions of every  dream ever held upon a heart  but tonight ,  I mask my longing within  the confines of my heart  I am nothing still ,  but this soul that  writes of poetry  and these eyes that always dream I beg the dawn to move me forward as I danced within the rain  just long enough- to bleed a word for you.