Forgive me, for I failed to heed your gentle call, In the silence, I feared abandonment’s cruel thrall. I longed for thunderous proclamations, a resounding decree, a clear bell tolling, a call that would set me free.

In my anguish, I raged and wept, lost in the void, the deafening silence, my senses left destroyed. Why did you not make your presence known to me? I strained to hear, yet your whisper eluded my plea.

In my arrogance, I overlooked your subtle grace, blinded by my yearning for a louder, bolder embrace. But the silence was not void, not a bleak, impenetrable space, it held the soft cadence of your voice, a tender, gentle trace.

You were always near, your whispers a delicate hue, yet I groped blindly, seeking a voice that was true. Your patience, a testament to your unwavering love, your gentle overtures, a symphony from above.

In the soft undertones of your voice, I found solace, each word a shimmering melody, a gentle call to embrace. You were always there, in the brindled silence, so near, whispering tender overtures, waiting for my heart to hear.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer