Song Of My Heart


Where is the bandage, the balm, the words 
to soothe my bleeding soul?
Loneliness flows from wounds of despair 
and floods my being with sorrow. 
I taste the salt of tears as I lie on my pillow. 
Stranded on the island of Silence, I feel no pain 
but the deadness of nothing.
Oh to feel something...
anything at all to fill my emptiness!

Others surround me but there is none to touch my spirit,
 none that know the song of my heart. 
They smile as they pass and if they should speak, 
their words but fall to the ground, not reaching my soul. 
Who is to know why? 
Do the wounds of my soul 
chase away the words before they arrive, 
casting them to the earth?
Since you went away, my soul is in exile, longing for home. 
For you were my home… the song of my heart.

Pamela R. Blaine
© July 2002