Contemplation

You sense the faint whisper

growing closer and louder,

something alive, alluring, 

yet threatening,

lurking behind a shut door

or an opaque window,

or inside a gleaming star,

something of spirit,

fallen from the sky

or sprung from earth,

thoughts old and darkening,

something of death

and questions unanswered,

like an avalanche 

careening too fast,

an ache you cannot bear,

a hunger for light,

a heart needing love.

Originally published in Southern Voices Anthology