An Homage To Words Written

There's a writing in the ether

Subtle yet precise, shifting when you focus

Who would think to speak it?

Why was it written and by whom?

These questions nearly fade with the written words, but are snatched up before the breeze, laid out instead upon the page. 

Perhaps there is significance to such edification, if it can be called that. 

Maybe a scrap once written will dance tongue once more for these pages borne, however it does not look to be this tongue or this night.