Time Capsule Messages | A Poem

I want to hold you,

listening to the strange twitch of your quivering voice begging that some definition be given

to the aimlessness of your days and the desperation of your nights.

I want to tell you that life is not some enigmatic static of communication signals.

I want to tell you that your quivering voice is you holding on to some hope that you know has always been there.

If you can't find the words to shape that which you wish to emit from your lips 

then let me be the air lurching from your lungs to form the words that you aren't able to.

Allow the stillness to shift,

allow the cold to reveal all the beauty covered in grayscale that you hadn't yet noticed.

When you run down the riverwalk listen to the chatter of birds in the hammocks of tree branches above your head.

Hear the gurgle and lap of water tongue against the rocks making up the shoreline. 

Watch the squirrels lurch and dart after each other like shadows in pursuit of their distant yet unattainable selves.

I am not a surgeon but I want to see your heart pump with the anticipation of youthful desire you once held. I want to dig out the cataracts that are coating the lenses to your eyes . . . 

This is not the end and I need you to see that with your eyes.