Do you hear
the shrouded echo
of my heart?
It plays
a covert rhythm for you.
Clouded by fear.
A signal like morse code,
a single sylable,
a symbol in sound,
love
spoken in raised pulses
into the still air.
A word or two from the heart,
as this stuttered message
convulses
and the glass structure
of hurt
is crashed and ripped apart.
It beats its furtive message,
a simple mystery to decipher.
It is not rocket science,
nor a great spy story.
It's just a simple
love story, told in beats,
elemental sounds
that reverberate,
wiping clean the slate world of hate,
and sharing with you
a view of the mystical landscape.
Do you hear it?
If not then listen closer,
soundproof your mind
to all the other clutter,
and then
when you hear that first flutter,
like the elegant wings
of a butterfly, you may
feel them deep within,
just trying to keep rhythm.
Do you hear the sound?
A soft delicate drumming
like snowflakes amplified
as they drift
to a slow steady thudding.
This simplified
message of love,
so tribal, and timeless,
the cavemen heard it,
but us, we drown it out
with constant noise.
Thanks for reading
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