One Day 1

 

One day I will tell you of my journey.

One day when we are strong again,

I will explain where I went, and how I came back. 

One day I will tell you of how I came to believe again. 

One day I will be able to tell you that part of me never gave up believing.

And that was enough.

However dark it got.

However desperate and desolate it was in my head,

embers on my heart believed, always believed.

And that was enough.

 

One day I will tell you all that.

One day I will hold you again when you cry, just because you cry.

But for now I just stand, in your silence, and wait for that opportunity. 

 

One day you will be able to tell me of your journey.

One day you will outline your pain, your emptiness.

And the release you felt in your decision.

 

One day you will be able to articulate if you still believe,

or whether you have given up.

One day you will articulate you had given up,

but an ember of belief remained.

 

One day you will tell me that, and I, waiting in your silence, will be there. 

To touch your hand.

To talk again and for both of us to listen to our journeys.

 

One day our embered belief may be enough to begin a new journey.