You ask me the colors I see in the rainbow. But you never ask me the colors I see on a plain piece of paper, or on a whiteboard, or even in a stray cloud.You ask me to distinguish your voice from the noise in the crowd. But you never ask me to tell you what your silence says to me.
You ask me to define life while looking at a song bird. But you never ask me about the life I see in an unmolded piece of clay.
You ask me of the love I feel for you.But you never tell me whether it is truth that you seek or merely something that would please your senses & satisfy the innate hunger that you feel inside yourself when you can’t find yourself even when you are staring at yourself in the mirror.
The Book Dragon 