If I Could Tell

If I could tell you about the many market moments in the marching season.
If I could share the stories of the sneaky strives and strikes.
If I could narrate the looks of a never relenting November sky.
If I could brief you about the beauty of the sacred grounds and the flower's music.
If I could tell you about the goodwill in the best wishes of well-meaning souls.
If I could tell you about the soft ceaseless midnight music of our hopes.
If I could tell you about the codes in the visions of dreams.
If I could tell you about the reasons for this missive motion.
If I could tell you about the high, even, the low landscape of the people's republic.
If I could tell you about the natural mystics still blowing through the air,
If I could tell you about how subtle interests drove passions to and fro
If I could tell you about the silent voices still sweating on our uncaring looks.
If I could tell you about the silent tears of lose and misery out there.
If I could tell you about the needless cues in tributes that were rendered yesterday.
What will you do?

                 II
What will you do if I tell you all these stories?
What difference will that make?
What will you do if I tell you the unexpected bitter truth about life?
What will you do if I tell you a good lie in place of this unwanted truth?
              
                III
How will you react if I give you a silent blank cheque?
What will you do if I listen too much to you in silence?
Of what use will it be if I tell you about the flame within?
Of what interest will the lovely sad stories of life make when I share the whispers?

KYB
27/2/2019