There was a silence in her deepest core, A searching for a step she’d heard before. A compass needle spinning in the gray, A sunlit path she couldn’t find her way.
Then he appeared, a resonance so true, An echo of a song she always knew. No shock of new, no stranger at the gate, But a remembered turn of loving fate.
Her frantic pulse found its corresponding beat, A quiet cadence, resolute and sweet. The fractured landscape of her inner world Became a map with his own flag unfurled.
He is the key for which the lock was made, The quiet comfort, the once-missing shade. The silent answer to a question drawn Within her spirit since her very dawn.
Pam Beach ‘Beyond the Blog’
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