Song to My Witness

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I sing to the one

who never sleeps,

a lullaby, a prayer,

and acknowledgement.

I sing to the witness of my soul

who watches me as I dream

from the cool, dark spaces

between stars,

from the exact still points

between heartbeats and breaths.

 

The one who has seen

all of my crimes,

all the comic and tragic antics

of my disparate self,

my confessor,

the one who cannot be

lied to or deceived.

 

And yet,

the one who holds me

in such a warm embrace

on the alter/stage of the Universe.

I, a brief flickering candle

guttering

in bright light.

 

I sing the song of my existence,

though I´ve forgotten

many of the words and notes.

My audience of one

knows them all by heart.

So I sing

to the silent witness of all,

the one who laughs and cries

my own tears and laughter,

then smiles and nods unseen,

watching it

all pass by.