Friday, November 30, 2012

our voices

our voices are too fleeting,
too finite,
just breaking into crevices
we never want to fill.

but eternally infinite
takes no note of our
finiteness
troubling not with
how feeble
our
attempts
are.

sound bites
become louder
than
a whisper.

he speaks
deep and trusting,
his voice wavering
as much as mine,
and we all take hands
and lose our
stupid
self-control
until our faces
wet with salty pain
to heal the
ache.

bleeding red,
bleeding red,
bleeding red.
and we speak
to fill the chasm
of emptiness
between
us.

i want to take the next flight
on the fastest jet plane
to somehow heal these wounds bleeding open
too long.
but i am still finite.
so i cannot stay silent.
and with hands wide open
though it breaks my beating heart
i catch the teardrops
of pain
to heal this old ache.

He will make everything beautiful in its time. 
and our voices somehow mingle in the rhyme
of finite breaking being lost in the middle
of an infinite love. 

No comments:

Post a Comment