The quiet whispers of your 
soul’s desire flowed gently 
into the silent places
deep in my aching heart

places that words could not 
reach, where sorrow seeped
into the corners and froze 
the music I longed to sing.

The lullaby you sang to me,
my weary, wounded soul
knew was written by angels,
carried on the wings of doves.

In silence you whispered fiery prayers,
banished sorrow from the corners,
bathed my frozen soul in sunlight
and clothed my heart in joy.

©2023marthahurwitz