Earshot

earshot Illustration of the Poem [ Artist ] Brooke Shaden

Frise fleur blanche 30

Earshot

Hanging time
when, by whispering, you talk to me
passionately
about little things you cherish
it’s so soothing…
All these scrumptious things in your mind
featuring a myriad of many-hued fish
so charmingly
it’s like the rhythm of heart waves
for a bathing
in the blue sky’s gleams undefined.
Sense of time
When, in the bright night, you talk with me
I can listen to you for hours
henceforth I know what your heart craves.
You that I have so often sought
through my nights that the day devours
and your mystery is for me
within earshot.

Inner’s time
when resounds your voice’s echo in me
it’s like listening to the rain
through a window
reinventing the ocean’s chant
it’s so calming…
The pure delicacy seems on my life to flow.
Comes flamboyancy in my brain
…Chills begin.
As a candle which leans, I slant
when your words sing.
Lover’s time
when, by light rustling, you talk to me
it’s like a vital summer breeze
learning to my fingers your skin
to give birth to a flower’s thought
on the frail twigs becoming trees
and Eternity is for me
within earshot.

 

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