those soul impressions start at such a young age
before language
before we can articulate
but even so we understand so much, so much more than we do later in life

impressions of love and security, softness and safety, warmth and comfort in the arms of an Aunt
impressions of tenderness in the hug of a grandfather

still always knowing
always knowing who i was, before language, before roles and labels
always knowing that deep connection to holiness and what was sacred

standing on the edge of a field, sun setting, casting gold at my feet
holiness and beauty, leaving me without words
leaving me with tears rolling, without words

impressions of love and openness.
genuine admiration and equal love.
so big and overwhelming, asking me to leap into an unknown.
leaving me without words.

impressions of purity, looking into her big new eyes.
seeing the face of God in a new way, knowing a new love.
a bigger love. a consuming love.
getting lost, and not connected to that deep knowing of myself.
leaving me without words.

impressions of horror and pain. things so awful they cannot be real, but they are.
leaving me alone. no longer knowing that bottomless love, grasping for the comfort
that i so needed. leaving me with only tears, and no words.

impressions of forgiveness and grace, as real as my first true love.
a real love that survives time and grief.
he is my best friend, and with him, i am not left without words.
with him, my words come to the surface and break free.
with him i am free. i speak freely.
i am not without words.