The weight behind her words reduced them to whispers.

Whispers that her voice couldn’t carry

so she waited for a breeze that could bear them.

A breeze strong enough to shake tree branches soΒ rich with autumn that they dripped golden leaves.

A breeze gentle enough to carry dandelion wishes and the scent of rain.

A breeze that brushed soft against her face,

bending her heart to trust it with her secrets.

Secrets that she no longer wanted to keep,

so on the next gust of wind she let them go.

Casting them with a sigh, into a chill of air that turned her breath to vapor.

Where it lingered for a moment

then vanished.


26 thoughts on “Secret

  1. Yes! True for me as well. More often than not it takes some digging to find what is really being said. Thank you so much for reading. πŸ™‚

  2. Beautiful imagery, ethereal. It brings to mind when burning incense, the wisps of smoky scent carrying prayers ever upward to the heavens, where they are heard.

  3. {sigh} — or {gasp}? I don’t know which would be a better description of my inner response to this. However, it gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes. If only we could always remember to do this for ALL our heavy secrets!

  4. I recently read an article about the toll that carrying secrets can take on a person, even to the point of compromising one’s health at times. That was part of the inspiration for this post. Thanks again for reading. πŸ™‚

  5. your words are always beautiful dear but the pictures you take are really creative i feel

    thank a lot dear Devan

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