The echo of it Oct. 21, 2025

 

 It is not the real sound I hear, just the echo of it, resounding from countless canyons. I do not reckon its source, only partly its meaning, it strikes me as hard, the reverberation that coincides with the vibrations I feel in my heart, beat after beat, the echo coming at me at those moments when I think of you and hear your voice, singing love songs that fill me completely and leave me empty when they are done.

I could spend a life time searching out where they come from, this valley or that, seeking the source of this sound I know I will never find, unable to define it, pin it down, locate it, when I fear when it ceases, so will my heart.

 

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