Beating

Great joy they had said.

Great joy chanted

The goodly crowd of messenger. 


“Great joy” they proclaimed to 

The the edges of the sky.

“Great joy” they promised


But we are here

Suspended between the heights above

And the depths below


We only hear those quiet echoes.

We never saw their lips release them.

We never heard the messengers call. 


Great joy? 

Where? 

Where is this great joy? 


Betwixt the eve and morn? 

Beyond the edge of the sea? 

Is it beyond the sky’s hems? 


“Great joy.”

It is heard quietly

Within the questioning.


The heart whispers it.

With each beat we hear it. 

“Great joy.” 


The echo resounds

Meek and subtle

Within the cage of our own chests. 

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