She Came As A Whisper

She Came as a Whisper
by Johnny Rustywire
She came as whisper.
In the rustle of trees she came to me
to stir my soul.
Her heart and mind are more than I thought one could offer;
and yet she provides it to me as a gift, taking nothing.
We talk from time to time.

I imagine she has seen many things,
and been many places I will never go.
She is from the east and I from the west.
When we talk, it is straight from where we live.
There is no color, pretense or class to stand in the way.
Our souls are bare
and our hearts speak a language without words.
Who is this woman?
Where can she be?
I have known her all my life,
and yet she is just now coming to me.

In the night we share the same sky;
the raiment of the forest is ours;
and yet we walk different roads.
I have never stepped into her world
nor has she seen mine.

And yet I see her.
I learned to know her as a little girl,
and as a young woman,
and now as a grown woman
with the height, depth and breadth
to know life and all its travails.

We have not spent any time together,
but that has been more than enough time.
We can see boundaries from afar,
taking small steps to the edge,
knowing that with each step the distance diminishes.

She is from another world,
yet she has always been in mine.
We know we will never meet,
and we let that knowledge lie there,
as a young bird lies
who has fallen from a nest,
not ready yet to fly.

I have never seen her.
I do not know the sound of her voice.
I have never looked into her eyes.

I bid her hello from time to time.
She knows my voice though she has never heard its sound.

I wish her well;
knowing, at some point,
in some distant place,
we will laugh and talk.
We will meet on a far dawn
of a day that will not end.