listen to life -

have you not heard me? borne upon the air at dusk, dancing ... I have whispered you in a million voices still, you descry not my utterance? Listen, yet, for all is precious ... in the tremble of the plum blossoms - is the tender truth not there? in the aching sigh of spring-tide, longing for the touch of LIFE does my intent not appear ... clearly? in the hollow goodbye of the passing, placed into cold soil or scattered, spinning, on the breeze ... in the belly laugh of a child, finding untarnished joy for the first time ... in the bloom of creation come to realization on the tip of a slender branch .. hearken yet, close! There! feel it ... HEAR it! Within the keen and cold desperation of winter wind ... inside the scratchings of fear, black as coal ... deep, deep within the horror of oblivion, and the knowledge that the ONLY thing that endears life to itself, is the LOSS of it ... here - here in the breath of silence ... brushed aside, oh so gently, like the strands of hair from a baby's forehead in the midst of fever ... like a lover painted in moonbeams - lost in moments, drowning in the hope that intimacy means something more ... like the glint in the eye of a pet, whose owner's caress is everything ... like the rusty tears of a madman, doomed, shed for the sake of life sacrificed in reclamation ... like the warm pulse of lifeblood, coursing ... like the wash of phosphorescence on a beach, where countless souls were given - sacrificed needlessly for the aims of self-important fools, half a world away ... like the frost on a window, left by the breath of a dying promise ... like the shudder of skin, touched by attentive fingertips in passion ... like the cold kiss of a friend, lost, set free by the failing of a respirator a final farewell to an existence of pain ... like the face of a dear one, cradled in your palms in the wish for forgiveness ... I have spoken to you in earnest - across the addled ages, you have felt my breath warm on your cheek, yet you walk on, careless you buzz about your life in apathy and indifference, searching for integral meaning, when that meaning was yours all the time ... the preciousness of this existence, is ONLY of such value for two reasons: it is BRIEF ... and you are mortal ... life is the only true gift you are EVER given and death the unshakable assumption of its worth death is ultimate, inescapable ... but in all its dark disguises, it is the one TRUE element that we require the one true measure of importance, and the salvation of all that is good and estimable, for LIFE is worthless without it ... its precious spark, doused with but a breath of limitless value. I have whispered that to you in a million voices ... have you not heard me? ~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (3), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 2nd Place ~ in the the "Favorite Free Verse" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 1st Place ~ in the "How Precious Life Is" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.