When Listening is Hearing

There are times when I just don’t listen,

she speaks,

while I remain in the room,

certainly one could see I am not present.

~

There are years that I try to recall,

her voice,

suggesting I am close,

able to understand without hearing.

~

There are voices that I do recognize,

her words,

always giving me guidance

to indicate I might one day figure it out.

~

There are places I remember when

she cried,

and I could no longer fix

the pain she had chosen to endure.

~

There are melodies that I want returned

while her

soft voice echoes in my mind,

I wish then I might have her heart nearby.

~

There are worlds that exist around me,

He said,

that depend upon an energy

beyond the selfish needs I seem to employ.

~

There are times when I do like to see again,

her eyes,

when in that shadowed space

we laughed, I cried, while she listened.

~

*photo found on Pinterest