Voices In The Fire

Valley of the shadow,

Paused, breathless, weary...

As though some mysterious exhaustion

Drew him away in unsurpassed peace

Like a feather falling in evening's zephyr,

Like stardust drifting in cosmic winds...silently.

He died a little

But found resurrection in the sleeping

And her patient presence holding him

Like a gossamer tether in her fingers

Lest he floats away

Like a kite without a string.

And heard her charming voice

With ears dulled to life's clamor

Call his name with gentle warming...

As a voice amid the fire

Lapping against the sandy beaches of his heart...

"come, hold me. it is not yet the time."