I can't hold you,
but I feel you.
It's felt in the wave,
which resonates louder
between each silence.
I feel the tears.
The wet hue's colorful reflections,
which slide and dive
from cheek to sheets.
I can't see you,
but I hear you.
Muted and afraid.
Shaded figures
which slip off the tongue
and darken the conclave
which emits the light
of spirit's delight.
A turned mirror.
A dark cave.
I can't save you,
but I can show you.
An illuminating view
the shortcut through
the shrouded path
of the past.
It's time you knew
your value. - Brad Sanford
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