Whispers.

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