WHISPERS

When I’m still enough to listen,
My soul whispers to me.
She tells me many secrets
About what is and what could be.

 

Often, her whisper is singing
Or poetry and rhyme.
Once she spoke in cries and wails;
I hear her whispers all the time.

 

I find her to be elusive,
If I try hard to hear,
It seems that she moves away;
Perhaps she tries to disappear.

 

I know to treat her with honor
And show her love each day.
That’s when she is most happy
So that she has plenty to say.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s