Whispered Soothings

Writing

is like that first love,

harbored in a history

that no one

but you and blank pages

know of

because when gazing

at crisp and barren

parchment, uninked

yet patient

to be

filled with a newfangled

world

or rare personage,

you revel

at untangling

buried meanings

in the dissonance

of your internal being

as if

longing to understand

nebulous senses

that have been

transfixed

by the keeper

of your heart.

And you will leap

into the tale,

urged by passion

for something neither

deceit nor lived

but with painted details

so vivid

you would rather

chase the image

than let it fade away

as perhaps when,

in a dream, you discovered

your once cherished and

dared her to stay.

When ink is finally

put to paper,

you will cling to the

whispered soothings

of that first love - 

a shared nature

to be enveloped

by sheltered truths.