Silence was shattered. Something in the background. Nearly inaudible. I felt awakened. I felt spoken to; the screams of silence returned. A small miracle, despite motivation. A man died again; a woman kept with churning. So great the road—so long the tunnels, miles and miles again. The journey never ends, is ever new, and never started. A soul to itself, trained, losing footing. To hold a heart, responsible for life, angelizing to avoid it—steep darkness, such pulsating rain. To give a gift with a smile. To feel facetious inside. To give what was given. To know it will disrupt silence. To wrestle with its weight. Such beauty in Truth, as a soul desires—it is given.
