Spirit Voices

They came to me
In Spirit voices
Voices with no words
In childhood they came
As alone-ness or a streak of sunlight
They entered winter wool
And moist eyes
A heavy heart
A fragment of paper

They saddened with dusk
Or dying
Last breaths
Fallen leaves
Sandpaper faces
And creviced wrinkles
Sadness held them like a cup
And one felt a tight embrace
Of fear
Fearing the wrenching seperation
And detachment of sadness
Into an ethereal realm
Of lightness far away

In happiness
One held thoughts
And songs
And love
Heavy
Like a filled water balloon
One spattered love
In bursts of laughter
Splattered that water balloon
On a wall
And felt happy all over

They come to me
These spirit voices
Less frequently now
Less than they used to
They come with attachments
Of reason
That open along with the file
They don't smear
They formulate and think
But I still wait for them
Still wait for myself rather
To still open
And just open
And wait
Because they'll come
Again