fill in the blank

speak to me.
not necessarily
in words,
but speak to me all the same.
speak to me in the language
of your spirit
and tell me its every utterance.
tell me your first inclination in the morning,
and not the first thought
you use your speech to form.
what color do you see
when your eyes shut,
what moves you
from your sheets,
what voice reigns
when your logic fails?
speak to me
not about the mundane
motions you fulfill in each
passing day,
but in the magic of the days
you envision
and the light of those to come.
speak to me
not in reference to
a love long lost,
but of the love
which continually
fills your being
when the sun
coats your eyelids
with that sinking-in
warmth.
speak to me
of all of this
to fill my being
with all beings,
to fill it with the wonders of the world
and the love of its inhabitants.
speak to me
to fill
the emptiness
that sneaks into this stagnant
loneliness
and echoes back
its own silence
with something
beautiful.

DLS