writing Angelic Whispers

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

Angelic whispers come to mind.

Tearing apart the known in my own heart.

These whispers, these nonchalant yet so lovely, whispers…

 

My own beating heart is metronome to the whispers I hear.

Each beat I offer gives new life to every sound that I hear.

I know not where the whispers are…

 

At the forefront of my mind, these whispers take shape.

They dance and dance, they laugh and they cry.

These angelic whispers know emotion…

 

What little I am able to offer, these non-existing sounds that caress me.

My beating heart, and a mind to hear them.

These poetic little whispers…

 

When my own thoughts are no longer heard, all I will know are these noises.

These whispers of vague, and very descriptive, feelings.

These thoughts, these whispers, now all that I ever want to know.

I look forward to the day in which I am blessed enough to live amongst them.

I hear them now, these whispers, ones of angels.

I wish for them, I ask to be with them.

Who knows just how blessed I ask to be?

 

 

 

-David Favret