There was a whisper
It was the shadow of cobalt blue
It spoke of the struggle
It waxed poetic about the tragedy
It worshipped the choice of a long
suffering love
It promised poverty
It vowed heartache and pain
It breathed an oath to never let go
There was a whisper
It bled the the aroma of oil and cedar
It taught me to resign myself to the end before stepping through the threshold of the beginning
It directed me to always be prepared for the worst
It showed me that dreams were only of glorious suffering and the hope for the beautiful end
It convinced the small child that I was that fear was normal and only a symptom of needing to except the eventual conclusion of death
It persuaded me this was normal
It demanded this was the only way
There was a whisper
It was distantly a shout
No silence could deafen its resounding cries
Still echoes remain of these constant pronouncements from another time
Still there is a residual drip that requires attention that no one wants to give to it
Still at times I fight the fear and worry
There is a whisper
It bears a glimmer of turquoise
There is a whisper
It's fragrance is that of a spring rain
It washes my eyes and asks me to look again
It believes that here in this moment there is dream to be born and a hope to be unfurled
It holds
It rocks
It breathes life
There is a whisper
It makes all things new
