By Morgan, a woman worth waiting for.
Whisper into my Memory
Things I scare Remember, But You See.
Tall in Wisdom, yet frail of heart,
This Memory is binding and keeps its start
Far closer than any temporal Imagining,
While I Listen for the sound of my Spirit Speaking.
Teach me of the Time that is past,
Of bygone eras that failed to Last,
While in the Sharp Erudite Stare of the world,
I am but chaff upon the wind unfurled,
Blow in directions unseen or unheard,
As Poignant as unspoken word,
Yet, as I drift upon that Breeze,
I Touch the face of all Realities.
Closer in Thought than in Spectral Being,
More distant in Musing than the Starlight Fleeting,
I Stand Amidst shadows, Stretching out my hand,
Seeking Yours, though I barely Understand,
Certain I shall Find You, in spite of all the shouting,
The Ambiguous Fear of pragmatic doubting,
That clatters into my…
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