Only
In the interstices where
The calm exists, the stillest air,
A whisper falls as sweet as prayer–
A single word, as cool and kind
As falling snow, and intertwined
With light the stars have left behind–
A tender word that none can hear
But has it poured into his ear
By whom he loves most as his dear–
This modest word, spoken so low,
Both stops his heart and makes it go
Apace, swift as a river’s flow–
Such a small sound to mortal men,
He thinks–until his dearest then
Calls him ‘Beloved!’ once again
Art-Colored Glasses 
Lovely, my sweet!
For you, of course, with much love.
xoxo!
Nicely breathed..
Peace & Light
And joy and abundance to you, my dear Mira!
Beautiful!
Thank you, my friend. I can tell from your posts that you and your wife know how to say the right Word too. 🙂
Sigh!
Exquisite writing, Kathryn … the title is perfect too!
xoxo!