ShadowofIris: Poetry

Her Return


The sound of thunder
without rain.

Call out
and listen,
only an echo returns.

Cry a tear,
stop the world from turning,
stand and shout,
nothing changes.

Sit and ponder,
dreams undreamed,
stories untold,
Faith unanswered.

Then, I hear it,
a small voice.

You whisper
messages I barely hear,
of magic trees and
places farther off
than distances can cover.

Things I thought I'd never see,
yet now through your eyes,
I catch a glimmer.

Beautiful,
unspeakable.

So here I sit
and wait
and hope
for your return.


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Copyright (c) 2005 Matt Dioguardi. All Rights Reserved.
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