Within the centred self, We speak, in silence and
With words which others May not hear, while in the
World at large,
only
mouths Are we,
spreading forth Imaginings, and hopes.
Who Sings the distant heart which
Safely exists in the centre of All things?
It is our Soul who Sings the deepest silence,
Without words, which others Gently hear,
even though they Know it not but feel it always,
As the heart knows no distance, And no concept
of time, space Or other, instead, circling in
Deep silence, the truth of all We are,
and offering in bright Whispers, the hope
of all we Might be, drawn together, Or
singled out through each Moment that we
call our own And yet which belongs not to
Us, but emerges from us, in Shining, brittle
imaginings Of our material being.
So Sings the distant heart.
https://dversepoets.com/
