In asking, am I heard?
Sept 23rd
I wonder if you might find it in your heart to tell me what I need to know.
I have listened for the tree that falls within the forest alone — hearing only its whimper of solidarity. The earth’s moving is misinterpreted by all too busy to notice.
Shall I fall alone also, only to go unnoticed?
How long shall I pour out my heart for all to see? Is not the last drop of crimson enough?
The final tear shed my debt in paying? Or must the rocks of my footing be squeezed as well?
I am forever grateful, but how much pain is enough to swallow? Before the joy of love be mine?
Is not a thousand deaths the receipt of cost, for the one I have longed for since my first breath?
Must you take my heart chalice?
Tell me, and I will pay to know this love I seek.
This life or next for without it, is no life at all.