Listen

I am listening to how I sound-
my pitch,
savoring
  all I cannot say, at present...the delicacy of aged thought and clarity
forming even
            now.
Your own voice, a reflection.
Strange, how the hope granted
causes
pause,
and I am witnessing what
                I've wanted.
                       Wound, still tight, but comparatively less shrill,  I've
                                                    been very busy tending drafts all these years, of how this ought
       to go - to feel,
                           losing
                                 sleep
but not
                                              the memories,
which
                                                have built grander
                                                  as time's gone by.
                                                      The sun sags,
weary yet impatient, but I've got all day
                                  because
    against what seems to be, there just may be a chance-
for reconciliation, for
            fire and renewal.
             I am ignoring, for now, the splat I hear
of bitter
                                      blots of recall.
                                      Bring me billows of shame and blame - I'm stronger now.  Are you?  I've stood
long at the
door,
                 deciding, equipped at last with fiery sight.  So, remind me of your suffering,
                      I'll remind you of seduction-
                                         of the why.  Give me your reasons,
pure and simple- they're
                           true.  Just wait - I'll
                              free you from the cage you waver in, though your key, the
same as mine, and really, you've bound yourself.  My eyes are sharp enough
                                                                       for two- I'll make you mind.   Behold with me, beyond the
         distance
of the misty past,
the green in hold,
             the waiting ripe,
             the wonder, thickening, floating, slowly rising.
                            Ruminate in absorption of
                                                absence.  You know
                                                                             why you
came.
All you thought you couldn't conquer,
but a vapor
and I heard you say my name.

Write at the Merge