Catching Whispers

 
let me try
to paint these words
into my face
or onto this paper,
to pour abstracts
and shards of
a shifting universe
and forevermore
longing to be

cast

into the mundanity
of pillars and arches,
coal on canvas
letters, language,
lines of a wholeness
longing to express this

world

that blossoms all around
while my frantic scribble
extends fetching fingers,
open palms inviting,
longing to capture

sense

of the smallest detail
enclosing a whisper
of forevermore fluttering
by me and all I try to be,
what you could and should
expect of me,
lavishing, leaning in
longing to listen

close

to the truth of it all,
the forevermore of
a multiverse existence
of options splitting reality
into a web of perhaps,
longing to continue

life

down all virginal paths
at the same time,
and like this I scribble,
not able to communicate
the enormity
in every fraction
of now and forevermore
that flows relentless
behind the curtains
longing to part,

hidden

below the layers
of all implied we must,
when all we truly cherish,
through rapid years
and eternal heartbeats,
is forevermore of fractions
longing to be

loved