In cocoons of vastness
In dreams of life
We hide
We cower
Afraid of the howling
Terrified by the wind.
Streams of love flowing over us
Like water over our graves
A holy wind
Blowing through our souls
A sweet, crystalline purity we never can own
Has discovered our silence and upon it we are borne
Directed to the shore
By the wings of our eyes.
In flight we are freedom
In sight we are free
Hold onto the love and let it shine
For in the darkness there will be no shrine
No sweet solace nor beauty to honour
Nor light…
Holy wind, holy wind
There can be no whispers here
You are the voice
And we are the song.
  1. Melanie
    April 29, 2010 at 12:14 pm

    Startling; it sounds like a description of my EX-writer’s block.

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