I heard her whisper.
A low, soft whisper.
Barely able to make out the words.
But it was her’s. They were her’s.
I wasn’t able to make out her words but they were there.
They’d now been released upon the gentle breeze that drifted around me, sensual, sure and steady. I knew that once released, they would never be drawn back in but rather carried on the fragile wings of the wind.
What are they?
Who owns them?
Is the owner the one who chooses to speak them out loud to be lifted on a gentle breeze?
Or is the owner the one who welcomes those words within the depths of their ears?
Yet her words grabbed my soul with a two fisted grip. They quickly laid claim to my inner being. My marrow tingled at their newness.
Her words smelt like lilacs newly bloomed out with a faint sheen of freshly fallen dew. They embraced my being like warm honeysuckle wrapping around a partially fallen fence post.
Truth filled, sorrowful, inspiring words.
I hear her words.
“It’s nearing the time.”
They beckon my soul.
Words have meaning and these words are intense.
I’ve recently begun to hear her words more frequently, calling to me.
She’s been whispering to me for some time but sadly I haven’t been listening until of late.
Where will the lead me?
Where will they direct?
I so yearn to know more of her words!
Her words will release the prisoner that I am!
Yes! I am listening!