There Is No End To Me

There is no end to me but for the end that might come tomorrow.

Today is one of those days full of speech

when lips are silent and the voice is still,

where an epiphany falls out of reach

no matter the tenacity of will.

There is no end to the conversation,

and I listen with an attentive ear

hoping to discover my salvation

in a crystal moment when all is clear.

The curtains breathe and hang in the window.

The sunlight passes through the lacy veil;

and trembling when the soft breezes blow,

it falls in a puddle, intense and pale.

A shadow of truth spills across the floor

descending deep into the silent wood

then it recedes until it spills no more,

and the quiet is both gentle and good.

Past, present, and future fill up the room.

I am drowning in both joy and sorrow.

There is no end to me, my fragrant bloom,

but for the end that might come tomorrow.

I might one day lie buried in the dust.

I might well mingle with roses and vine.

I might stay the soul and the prophet’s trust

in hopes of never meeting the divine.

I am something borrowed from heaven’s sphere.

I fell from the sky into ocean blue.

I am the evermore, the now, the here,

a silent prayer staring back at you.

I am an offering, a saving grace,

the soft cotton comfort of blesséd be.

I am the boundless, which no eyes can trace.

The world at her height is smaller than me.

I caper on clouds with stars in my feet.

The midnight lamps are full of silver fire.

At once I am flawless and incomplete.

My God is the hand, and I am the lyre.

I am the sweet note in a symphony,

sweeter than the song of a thousand birds;

and I know that there is no end to me.

I linger forever in velvet words.

Reviews

[David Scott]

I had to read this one twice... Your words are so like a song here. Every single line just fit so well with the intention and the artistry of the poem. I marvel at the symbiosis your words have with my soul as I read this poem. I am uplifted. Thank you for the experience.
Your comment at the heading is interesting to me. most everything in this life has an ending point. Yet, I believe as do you, the spirit has no end if we are connected to our Creator. The picture is precious as well. A feminine hand holding an antique clock. So much symbolism here. I could write a few pages... but I will spare everyone my thoughts. :)
Your voice was especially lovely today in this poetry!

[Philip Muls]

Very authentic. You reach deep into yourself. Hoping to discover your salvation...beautiful. That is what I am trying for most of my time now. How to find myself and give meaning to my life.

I have read on your profile you prefer poetry but I would appreciate if you could read my story Catharsis and maybe Angst.

[Devons]

"Velvet words" - to appropriately quote an apt phrase. This is rather beautifully composed. The rhyme, scan and flow is as close to poetry in its purest form as could intelligently be imagined. It has all the mystical and ethereal qualities that constitute a kind of heavenly incantation or prayer - angelically soft, comforting and wise.
An excellent piece of writing; crafted with artistry, accuracy, and intelligent design.

[ANTO]

We are all and nothing. We are...
The potency of your 'velvet words' affect long after the last syllable has met the eye.

Thank you for sharing this poem Linda Marie.

[Dean]

Here you have strengthened my own conviction that our salvation lies deep within ourselves. Some call that God, some totality.
As you confirm, world (self) without end. And that (dismissing the popular usage) is indeed AWESOME.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a write so rich in imagery and texture....beautiful poem about the several levels of people...we never really look deeply enough to see what's inside...i am the here and the now...so read me...feel me.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Those moments of self discovery and revelations about the soul are deeply powerful, and so is the way you expressed it here.