| Rod McKuen Come To Me In Silence Come to me in silence out of the noise of noon. Be the eye inside of me. Help me drink the river up and swallow it, or let me take great mouthfuls out of you, stampeding you to bed and then beyond, beyond. We will not meet again in the same way as before, you freckled by the summer morning smiling like a china cup over blue-white gingham. Me blue-jeaned and apple-cheeked a frown away from being glad. Accept the fact that we will grow perhaps in different ways. Come to me in solitude pushing through the crowd there are no others here to pry or make demands. If no one waits for you but me, I wait in that same solitude that brings you here. Come to me in silence like the land-bound stone pushed and shoved and finally sailed against the gray indifferent shore. Prophecies I have and I am not indifferent only gray, full of dark midwinter questions some that none could know or guess. Copyright © 1973, 1982 - 2004, Rod McKuen All rights reserved |
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