Listen

Stop.

Wait and listen.

What can you decipher from the sounds deep down?

Don’t let the buzzing drown it out.

Focus on the thumps,

The stirs,

The pumping.

It may be faint, but it yearns to be heard.

Let it speak.

Let it sing.

Let the voice inside confide in you.

Accept its truth.

Accept its love.

Accept the shift the gift imbues.

For it to be felt, you must feel it.

For it to be seen, you must see it.

For it to be heard, you must hear it.

Quiet.

Wait and listen.

Just listen.

Poem for Jaymeson

It pierced your heart continuously
Until the pain seemed normal,
But numbness never came.

It blinded your eyes
From the vision of the future
And the hope residing there.

It chilled your bones so completely
That the warmth of others
Could not persist.

They might say
The cause of death is weakness,
But weakness doesn't burn away hatred with flames of love.
Weakness doesn't persevere through raw fingers and broken toes.
Weakness doesn't create joy in the face of utter darkness.

This was not some passing shadow.
This was the malignant manifestation
Of something that stirs within us all.

If a young heart is open, it can be infiltrated,
And a bright soul's light attracts demons.

They might say
The cause of death was the fall,
But the demons know better.

We will choose to remember the smirking, shimmering truth of You,
Not the lie of darkness.
And we will breathe until we can do so without weeping.