By Steven Charleston
I know the secret language of the heart
How it speaks in whispers about the pain it has known
How it talks of loves lost and dreams deferred,
The wordless memories of a lifetime
Sharing a story that cannot be contained by words
But expressed only in the sound of rain.
It is the collective sound of all those voices
All those stories, all those moments of joy
That I seek to raise up to the listening skies
To hold up as high as I can in prayer
That the angels of the night will hear us
All of us with the dignity of our own story
And know that we are still here, still together
Still doing what we can to make hope have meaning.
Keep speaking the poetry of the heart.
I am listening. Many of us are listening.
We do not need language to tell the same story.
See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• In the Abode of the Heart
• The Way of Love and Healing
• Be Just in My Heart
• Adnan and the Winged Heart
Image: Artist unknown.
No comments:
Post a Comment