* Hold


impatient one

knowing beyond her years

and yet not

soul constantly searching, yearning

looking not for a place to rest and know Truth,

but a place to live and know it.

Hungry for all of it, as any thriving student

and yet as fearful as a young child

stepping forward, back; chancing upon; turning away.

nothing speaks the soul’s essence in a moment

quite so completely as a sigh;

coming from so deep within – so far, and yet not.

moments of quiet stillness

are the only ones in which she hears, (Truth)

flitting on the edges of consciousness

gentle, gentle spirits,

take her tears and hold them, hold her

that she may see their source.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

published in Wet Ink Magazine (ezine), 2003

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