The young one dangles her toes
that barely touch streams of mercy,
singing strains of amazing grace
by heart.
Yet, I hear
deep cello cries rising up,
as mercy notes stir me.
Only they have no name, really.
For what do you call the silence of being captured by a
thought,
or the sound of darkness as it disappears,
the weight of sin lifted?
My heartstrings tightened, tuned
‘til dissonant chords resolve
and knees fall down
to sing for you
the song you sang for me.
Patricia Spreng
Joining a bit late with d'Verse Poets for Open Link Night, click on the white link to find the wonderful words of poets.
