Song of the Empath – A Poem

By N. M. Sirett ©

All Rights Reserved©

SONG OF THE EMPATH

Be free

I said and lowered my head.

Be free.

I drew in a breath,

Not sure if it was yours or mine,

This wind that wisps in fast

Is cold in my thudding heart and

Consists of nothing from the start.

Be strong

I said, and let out the breath,

Spiralling up like a whirling light.

Be strong.

It was not me – that breath I drew –

It was you. And this, I already knew.

Your tears were long and fast and wet.

Your heart splintered – fragmented jet.

Be strong.

I cried with you, but you brushed on past,

Not knowing me.

Be – me.

Two others skip by; I laugh and laugh.

A contrast to your pain.

A respite for me – a respite of joy. They frolic off

While I watch you go,

Turning the corner of the road. Gone.

The pain burns out like a withering match. And

I am me again. Pure me.

Me – be.

You’ll never know, I was right there

With you. You’ll never know

Who I am. Nor that I am alive.

You’ll never know that I got you – it was fleeting

But I got you. For a split moment in time

We shared one breath

And you buffered in my heart with weeping wings.

I hope you find peace. I hope your pain

Disintegrates like ice on hot sand. Warmed by the life-giving sun.

I won’t remember you. And you don’t know me.

You are but one of the many breaths that I breathe.

But all our breaths are one.