You taught me my own name.
I'd heard it before, sure,
But never in that way.
You spoke the soul into my dust.
Though you didn't provide it,
My name you read through thick red rust.
My soul had rained for so many days,
I'd nearly forgot it myself here beyond the rays.
Beneath these waves.
The dark blue color a thick, thick haze.
Shrouding me from memories chained.
Pushing me away from whence I came.
Pulling me down beyond decay.
The last thing remaining;
Was just my name.
Nothing else,
Your word provided more than Heracle's belt,
A rusted badge barely adored,
A shadow crushed deep; dark galore,
Yet;
You knew it so well,
From you expelled a truth profound.
When I heard your sound,
I was found.
The rest would come,
But for now...
You had come.
Reached so far down,
A warm smile bright,
My Sun beyond ocean's sky.
A surprised fright,
Somehow,
This Lady...
This Angel..
This Light.
My Link to Life;
To Love.
You're to blame.
You just spoke my name,
And these drops transformed into doves,
Lifting me up beyond darkness clung,
The deep, watery depths that I'd come to know of;
Were suddenly alien,
My name did not know of:
This place I had slept for so long...
Not a word had reached me.
No bells,
No gongs...
But you spoke my name,
And the Universe shook,
Like God herself had descended and took,
Some unnatural impulse to look upon me..
She spoke so softly,
My name.
So many ways to say one word, and yet none have the same flavor as when spoke by her