There’s a void where the voice of love is missing,
Though it’s present still, it’s lonely and afraid,
Like a child bereft of toys and comfort, silent, waiting
For a glimpse of dawn to make the shadows fade.
There’s a vacant sign above the hearts that feel this,
As if love will ne’er enter there again,
That easing passage to the pining chambers
Will always be a path that’s fraught with fear and pain.
There’s a wind though that wends its way between, among us,
A breath of love that whispers into fissur’d hearts
Forever pouring forth from airy fountain,
Carrying love on breeze to bring voice back.
scottishmomus 