Words

Sometimes words are like the wind that blows the rubbish away

I reach for you, rejected.
I call for you, no answer.
I hope for you, unseen.
I wait for you, disappointed.

Yet still, words rise.
They cleanse like wind,
strike like hammers,
burn like fire,
soothe like lullabies,
heal like kindness,
bind like love.

So speak to me
before the silence settles,
snow upon stone,
ice upon your heart.