Whispers from the 1800s

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

I can’t seem to shake this, the constant pounding of my heart in a familiar key.

The unknown whispers…

Remember his heart, not his words. Remember his touch, not his distance. Remember his unspoken words, not the chatter. Remember the connections depth, not its surface.

Butterflies invade my plexus penetrating every inch until they settle deep in my abdomen.

This is no ordinary love, a melody that speaks to my divine gifts; a tune by Sade.

Echos from 1892

My heart exudes powerful waves reviving itself as if being resurrected from the depths of Valhalla, shifting and morphing into something extraordinary.

Reminiscent of a man from my recent past and from my pain. Reminders of passionate feelings as if I’ve known them over lifetimes. Souveniers flood in, imagery beyond my current cycle highlighting my present. A time when elegance spoke through detailed garments, mannerisms, prestige, and courting. The vision from my past is that of the Victorian Era mostly, but crossing life spans do occur.

I remember a masculine palm in mine, whispers in my ear, and a comforting embrace. I remember a top hat being removed in sync with a friendly bow and the look of admiration as he respectfully placed a kiss atop my hand. I remember the Waltz of the flowers played by a string quartet and the flowing motion of one dancing across a ballroom floor. I remember a greenhouse and an athame, horse rides, long strolls, and playful intertwines.

Who has such an impression on my soul? What energy has such a bond that I find myself humming various melodies as if they are unlocking mechanisms to my heart’s compass?

I question my sanity, the memories, and all the emotional flooding that captivates my being. I breathe anxiously knowing his identity but remain frozen too afraid to act on my intuition letting logic make the call.

But I continue to wonder, what if I utilize my bravery and let this vehemence assume control? What if I leap in faith that my heart knows more?

I wait and ponder as time continues to wither through hesitation and desire.

Thanks for reading




Self-improvement and creative writer focusing on mental health, and personal growth while living the best way I know how.

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