to the soul that starves

to the soul that starves,
a drop of impassioned nectar is an eternity filled

to the heart that hungers,
the barest nod of recognition sparks a holy fire,
consummates a raging storm
desert water trickles the arroyo into becoming

in the silence, a single word of truth overspeaks a blather of insincerity
amid the darkness, the mere touch of a fingertip reverberates the infinite embrace
love’s taste upon the tongue a feast for the yearning,
jasmine rose murmurs the musk of redolent wine

to the weary, downtrodden,
succor arrives on barely-noticed wings
ennobles the faint-hearted
authenticity’s moment stills the fragile bubble of time

within a hint of awareness lies the all-knowing
in the afterglow resides the ever-known
unspoken imperceptible action births new life
pebblestones strewn about in unalloyed profusion

to the ravenous and thirsting,
a grain of sand strains the folds of empty
it is but a droplet that floods interior tributaries
rapture enters the room unbidden, unheard

to the spirit that aches for the sacred,
sustenance in a whisper groans

One thought

  1. Once again, you are speaking of my soul….to my heart that hungers, Rachel.

    Ahhh to my spirit that aches for the Sacred in every utterance, internally and externally!


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