payment, past -

"Listen to the wind, it talks. Listen to the silence, it speaks. Listen to your heart, it knows." - Native American Proverb ~ he stood upon a mountain attending to her heart for surely such a hallowed sound would be born soft upon the sunrise and carried to impart the thrum of truest love, brought achingly … as he awaited, patient his tympans yet unstirred a gloried sun arose like thunder, bright and deep within the dawning the murmuring he heard was only Venus, bidding him goodnight he walked into the desert those endless, barren sands to hear her heart as voiced amidst the dunes for surely on a zephyr in tombs of kingdoms, grand did sing the purest loves through vestal runes … and as the dust regaled him in tales of badlands, gone the bullion moon above him, dripping gold the sound of steady thrumming alas, was but the dawn awakening the sand dunes from the cold he waded rippling meadows to find the forest, deep and listened for her heart to sing within a sacred green cathedral pristine enough to keep her drumming pulses dancing on the wind … but in that wooded whisper that rode upon the boughs there came a secret it would thus betray the measured heart-like beating its depths had thus aroused were Redwoods, creaking in a dancing sway he crossed the broadest ocean then lay upon its shores in hopes her heart would carry on the tide for surely such a mighty sea exacted that, and more in all the strength that Neptune could abide … and yet in all their majesty those billows ne’er bestowed on him, a song so worthy her command their rhythm was just simply the tidal ebb and flow - of rhythmic swells, soft-combing thru the sand in time, he wandered all the earth - crossed every sea and hill divining for the beat of her true heart but all the songs that he engaged ‘midst every sweetened trill were vacant of the love she could impart … the countless melodies he’d heard through sojourns that he'd led (despite them having taken such a toll) were yet, indeed, her beating heart - those things she'd never said - but seeded in the silence of his soul you see, she'd always loved him, true since she’d been just a fawn and thru those years, did patiently await but in his searching, wide and far too many moons were gone his glorious return, now far too late … each circuit he'd made of the world re-counted each bright day while time had eaten double of her years now he'd returned in middle-age to find her old and gray and nothing left to give him but her tears he cursed the horrid providence that, thus, had come to be an endless odyssey, now proven wrong he’d sacrificed such precious time on dreams he’d never see while love had waited homeward all along … now there before him, dying was the keeper of his heart the quiet harbor he had come to seek but dashed upon the ledges what the past could ne’er impart all gone, with one last kiss … upon her cheek. ~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Choice L, Any Theme Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Strand Select L Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.