Whispers

A whisper soft as a breeze of air,
like a divine gentle nudging,
risen from despair.

To find my ground,
and where I was inbound. 

For my ground was always fleeting, yet inside all along.
I had just forgotten to listen to its song.
For once I could hear again; the blooming was underway.
Just like poison ivy, dresses a house to its dismay.

I could no longer ignore, 
the chorus of wanting more.

You see when our hearts crack open, 
the intuition pours outside, 
and the playful whisper deepens,
and our direction is implied.

Words by: Alexandra Nash