Echoes are a wondrous thing.
And your voice rushes out into space
And instead of fading,
Dissipating into nothingness,
Dropping off into a vast void,
A bottomless canyon,
An infinite, endless expanding universe,
Your voice comes back to you.
Almost a surprise
Your mouth still open, your lips apart
A look of awe and wonder, a wisp of a smile, eyes wide
Questioning, “is that me?” , “Is that my voice?”
The sound slightly altered but
You hear it.
It reverberates and surrounds you like a hug.
Acknowledge, validate your existence,
Assert you are not in a vacuum,
Prove that you are solid matter,
More than a whispy cloud that vanishes from the heat of the sun.
They touch your skin
A hand on your shoulder, your cheek, your back, on top of YOUR hand.
Echoes are a wondrous thing
When they come back to you
And you don’t feel so alone
Life After Emilee, on the loss of my wife to pancreatic cancer. I’m not accepting comments right now but please feel free to get in touch via my Contact page.