searching, yearning for a sign
in the briefest flicker
in the smallest sound
in the lazy trace I design,
in the smallest sound
in the lazy trace I design,
yet nothing comes forth,
nothing,
nothing,
but your name.
Too many emotions to filter through
Too many emotions to filter through
and decide which one to peruse
to write,
whatever comes to mind
whatever comes to mind
words, thoughts, desires,
but there are none,
none that I can find
to express what it is
that my heart can feel inside
and the only resounding feature
but there are none,
none that I can find
to express what it is
that my heart can feel inside
and the only resounding feature
breathing light,
life into my soul
sustaining each beating moment
looped through
threading each silent fall
life into my soul
sustaining each beating moment
looped through
threading each silent fall
is your pulse,
your warmth, your love,
my lifeline through them all.
your warmth, your love,
my lifeline through them all.
2 comments:
So, so much. And yet not a name; not even a faint echo of who or what you are, to put to any of it.
Tell us something, O enchanter; tell us anything of ye; for we have grown weary of putting your words to a faint unknown call in the distance.
El Dorado, you are just as much of an enigma, an abstract cry from a fabled land of gold.
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