Echoes

The echo of the room of
your life’s former companions
Of the homes you left yesterday
to forage for a sense
Of truest form, but not this,
not like a shadow
with the darkest form
You had that day when your senses left that way

It is the rooms you left
to remove the heft.
I want to you know
No sorrow.

As children
We were unaware
of the life
That he gave back
The horizon kissed
the sky and we wept to say
“be on your way.”
For the love he made flesh became word

We said goodbye to the soul of souls
With the trust that
Father knows that his Son
Would take the cup
So we might have a union of old.
Evil crept in to remove the gift,
but they left west and
headed to a land of old
Until they were told to return a gift
that could not be counted,
not a thousand fold.
He then lived his life to give his heart
in way that today is still not shown.

But today we are content
for the echo
Of rooms we have not sewn
and allow ourselves
A truth that we seek
only in its afterglow,
of our images as we seek
the world and we seek but never know.

We turn to what seems so shallow
But has the depths of
the bluest miles.
We walk an individual path strangely similar
to the one up front, where
echoes fade, and truth rings true –
it gives up our hunt as
there is no hunger, but for the closing
of the space between

It is the rooms you left
to remove the heft.
I want to you know
No sorrow.

 

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