Silent Plea

Doest thou find tear neath soil's grave
Is there moisture there within
To dampen your skin
Or the dew your parched lips might crave

Doest thou hear sounds my mortal plea
Vibrations to beckon the ear
Negate use these appendage to hear
Is it in death we awaken to these things.

Doest thou gain voice to rhyme the reason
Obscured and with earnest refrain
As in the silence it is proclaim
Or here is it the tongue also knows treason

Doest thou have synapse to induce motion
Your fingers to lift and touch
Or the hand to reach and clutch
Longing still is thy body of such notion

Doest thou in morIbund stillness find thought
In relfections of these past ritual
Now bound of emotions residual
Or is dissipation in the aether sought

Doest thou recognize in the window divide
My nose and face pressed firm
Able are you to discern
Thoughts of my longing for you this truth to provide.

Doest thou recall the rasp of knocking at the door
For demand of your reflex
Or stilled are hands neglect
A denial to opening locked evermore

Doest thou feel love's death dying bond
As yet I find you
Eternity bound cannot undo
The two hand in hand though death for you is fond

Doest thou has sight of the pen in hand
Transcribing ever so swift
Sounds your signature lifts
As I hurriedly document its fleeting demand.

Doest thou remember from dreams sleep we awaken
Here in the light yet to rise
Founded are traces to words of their lies
"tis slumber to forbid sleep of one forsaken

Doest thou know of love's prize
For is it not in death we part
Life's end is yet the beginning to start
Where the divine love of spirit feeds our lives

Doest thou quicken taking heed my call
As I feel you touch prolonged
And Love's pulsed sensation longed
No emotional wind to uproot, or this tree to befall.

Does thou read of the emotion in my mind
Feelings to speak and hold you
These seeds we've yet to sow
Somehow tangled in this web yet to unwind

Doest thou bleed blood as the lamb
Pouring forth is mine as yet
Yours now of loss and regret
Our tears yet to breaketh the dam

Doest thou sense one frail and meek
Struggling is stricture of girth
For no death is inherent this earth
Herein is feedom of flight we seek

Doest thou wish to behold that fateful morn
Thoughts drifting in our space and time
The gentle breeze to intertwine
Then to blow turbulent in death we scorn

Doest thou know of one to shed these veil
In that I might clearly see
Though not reflect of me
But of the ones who breedeth such hell

Doest thou amidst dry membrane still cry
As the child pale as moon
Who weeps his death too soon
Or is it to know love's eternity does not die

Doest thou realize I read these visions
Hence knowledge they beckon unto me
That which you know and plea
Of this granted deed by which they gain provisions

Doest thou climb as I sensing the height
On ground they've set afire
Scorching with hands borne of hire
Forcefully exerting pressure on the court's might

Doest thou in exaltation confront the fear
With knees standing to tremble
Or the hands so frail and nimble
Remaining cognizant of the truths as they drew near

Doest thou taste the bittersweet pleasure
You hidden in depths of the grave
In life silence of death for me they crave
Now submit am I and taken at their leisure

Doest thou recall my stubborn drive and nature
That ne'er might I fail call to heed
The fulfilling of yours or my need
So death to mourn me would befall life's stature

Doest thou know of time's illusion
Treason to burden our youth
One hewn of life's abundant fruit
And of the weeds which lie within our garden's perimeter.

Doest thou know intrinsic is my heart's strength
With integrity to follow morality's path
Despite animosity of their evil rath
So inflict to alter the tide of our marriages length

Doest thou rely on these tides of character ritualistic
Of these thought to carry
Beyond land or these seas to ferry
Nature's habitual patterns and chaos humanistic

Doest thou feel thoughts diffuse mine eye
And your mind to permeate
With love to foil their hate
For this truth your grave bequeaths in a sigh?

Herein the aethers continuum 'tis the mind who must listen
For as each spring new life blooms
You are there to brighten the gloom
Your memory in every petal's dew as it glistens

'tis not that I believe revenge is sweet
For I too would sour
Seeking the negative power
So from every hearts vengence I retreat

Once again the question arises
Is it to be or not
That in death they took you
Though ne'er shall it deprive my heart
The fond memory of you here
Nor essence of our divine love
Life holds dear.

- Blanche McLanahan