Speak Again, Love


Sweet is the sound.

Your voice, slow greeting

My eardrum in this garden,

heeding downtrodden woes.

My heart & flesh are failing,

falling below a standard I’ve set:

I can be lonely. I can be fine.

By myself. On my own.

I don’t need to be alone with You.

I’m lying.

I do.

Oh, my Friend,

I am aching.

Resorting to quiet speech.

I do not know to do.

Nor are the choices mine

in making me gaze more

into Your beloved face,

I am only satisfied in You.

If this loneliness is to keep me

back from seeking humanly comfort,

or advice leaving me in a fetal

vice I never turn my back on,

I’ll sit here writing scrawls

with my broken voice connecting

our sorrows as one silence

better shared with He, who wept

before my name bore bloom

an April morn pain declined.


2 thoughts on “Speak Again, Love

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