The Calling
I felt the pull, the draw consuming,
It tickled at my fingertips.
I clutched it tight, white knuckled, to me,
Desperate to stop it from slipping away.
I need not have worried,
It wanted me too,
And held me as tight as my arms did grasp.
It pulled me inside and sank into me.
Rooting around, it fought for a voice,
And searched for words to speak out a truth.
It lost its edges and I lost mine,
Melding into a singular form.
You can no longer tell me from my calling,
We stand strong together, one and the same.
It tickled at my fingertips.
I clutched it tight, white knuckled, to me,
Desperate to stop it from slipping away.
I need not have worried,
It wanted me too,
And held me as tight as my arms did grasp.
It pulled me inside and sank into me.
Rooting around, it fought for a voice,
And searched for words to speak out a truth.
It lost its edges and I lost mine,
Melding into a singular form.
You can no longer tell me from my calling,
We stand strong together, one and the same.
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