Whispers; a hint of sound, a gentle push –
time that slips beyond space
holds liquid-like-air;
nothing tangible,
making it even more intriguing.
Yet, when the wind blows and the sand slip
between my fingers like pearls of wisdom
from an unforgiving past
and words fall lovingly from my own lips,
I am continually surprised by the knowledge
that lands squarely within the angst
and cracks of my very soul –
No stones unturned or bridges burned;
life and love are unconditional.

I have tired of the turmoil,
but not the anticipated sound of your voice.

© 2020TrilbyYates