Love is a thousand scattered whispers longing to be one
Traveling down the spring gathering voices as this love moves
A trickle to a stream, a whisper to a scream
Calling out into the scenery, searching out another
We float down currents never knowing what lies just beyond
Every bend bringing new possibilities of what dreams may be
But for many these whispers get lost in the tall barren canyons
We wish for our love to find something soft and fertile
“The next Turn” we tell ourselves,
and then the whispers hit
Thunderous is this sound of love against the rock
“This must be what I have dreamed of” we say
“My love sings like a choir here”
A melody so enchanting and bold
Like an army reaching out and taking control
But it does not grow, just bounces till we fade
As farther down in the soft fertile valley awaits
Fertility, She is lonely with her wonder and silence
While tending her flowers she tears
”will whispers never come”
And there we are, sadly clinging to the rock
Just up around the bend above
Hypnotized by the angelic
Echo of a whispers scream
Lost in the thunder cracking
We fall in awe of our own love
In love with our own dream