Where The Trees Whisper My Name

Falling from grace

A place where the world is not friendly

The birds they no longer sing to her

The trees no longer whisper her name

She cannot hear

The wind, it blows through her hair

But she cannot feel

Running away

Calloused heart

catches her breath

Her words are salted wounds

Bubbling up from the place within

Stinging, with each syllable

The empty ache

This unfamiliar self
"This is not who I am"

Leads her back, climbing up to the sky

She falls back into grace

Where in this world, she is not alone

The birds sing to her

The trees whisper her name

And the wind blows through her hair

Honoring herself

Brave heart
catches her breath

Her words are like honey

Radiating from the place within

Soothing with each syllable

Finding herself familiar

in that sacred place

with wings

she had all along

flys into grace

~Almighty Heidi


Fareed said...

Dare I say that the first line was a little cliched? But then on, the upward hike in the quality of words washes all the blemishes. All in all, I like.

Shadow said...

damn, this is great, the turn-around, from sinking to the bottom, to rising into the skies...

MilesPerHour said...

This has inspired me to write some of my own lyrics today for some music I wrote and recorded. Thanks!

Tom Bailey said...

I love the contrast between the first and last line. I really liked that part because it made me wonder which part you wrote first.

Kindest regards,
Tom Bailey