Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Whisper

Cold...
Your touch burns,
scarring my soul
in its passing.
'Come to Me,'
the whisper in my heart,
'rest, Peace,
true meaning you will find.'
You never told me it would hurt,
tear my heart,
shred my soul.
Raging at the pain,
questioning my surrender,
baring teeth,
shaking fists,
weeping for the death of me,
i flail and scream!
Then, Your hand touches mine,
Your arms hold me close.
Love pours over me,
filling wounds self-inflicted,
weeping with the gratitude
of anguish taken.
'I love you,'
the whisper shouts in my heart,
'Let Me show you how...'

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