Whisper
If I was but a whisper,
a short, nigh inaudible breath,
a sigh of relief of a soul in limbo,
a cool of winter, a calm of dusk,
I’d sail away from the lips that spoke me,
I’d echo for a moment in the space between,
then fade as quickly as I came to be,
gone – never to be heard of again.
I am a whisper,
a short, visiting consciousness,
a dream so brief and vivid,
a mere blink in cosmic time,
I can’t escape the mortal body I inhabit,
I will disintegrate and be nothing again,
I am, only to not be,
a memory,
a fossil,
atoms,
particles . . .
I am forgotten before I even was.
I am found before I am lost,
then lost again when found,
then found and lost again.
I am in a constant state of flux.
Of being and not being and being and not being and . . . and . . . and . . . poof! Gone!
Perhaps, I am neither existent or inexistent.
I am here
When am I?
I am here
Where am I?
I am here
Who am I?
I am nowhere again . . .
I am a whisper
a cloud of condensation in the fresh of morning mist
I am a whisper
an awkward greeting between strangers
I am a whisper
a deafening silence
a thought
a communication
a life sign or a signal lost . . . lost . . . lost . . . los . . . lo . . . l . . . …
This is an original piece by Jose Bernardo.
2015 © Jose Bernardo All Right Reserved
Please note that the poem above is my original work and that I reserve all rights to it. If you wish to use or reprint anything from my website, please contact me first.