Sumbering whispers
deep inside the soul,
lumbering around like cats,
waiting for their evening dole.
They reverberate.
waiting to communicate
and understand the whole.
When tensions of the human will
reach saturated heights
the whisperings release,
like moths transfixed by light
of tallow tapers,
sparking ignition,
for sluggish intuition.
Whispers need directions
when they reach the intersection
to make the right connection,
going left or going right.
The whisperings decisions
are lonely ones to make,
they may need a few revisions
when choices take a break,
to begin the epitaph and legacy
not meant for mediocracy.