letter to my soul - 2

To: My S.
April is leaving today and before she leave, I told her to laden herself with my many what's, oh's and hmm's to give to you my S. She was happy it rained this morning for she could smell the sighing wind for one last time. There she was, gazing into the distant mist that fell adrift in the drunken wind like a mystic wandering here and there. A mystic once herself she told, until one similar morning she knew that her tummy tinkled and dizzy went her dreaming head. For nine moons that followed she had one smile and dreamt one song, the song of the pupurupus. There I was, a mysterious little one learning how to relate myself to you. All the time we lived together but yet kept untold secrets and many hidden clothes in our closets.
If April knew what I write to you, her journey has a reason and her going has a meaning. But she always tells me why I send these letters to you, within someone else to carry, when you can be within myself as always. April is so curious as life begins with her, and I learn to play in the sand with her. She brings abundance of water from the heavens and grows my food from within that barren land that stretches. April she is my "nine moon carrier" with whom aligns myself, the stars and the rest.
If not for me would you still be there i wonder my warmth my S. I long for the meeting with you someday, a journey of many passing stars and many flowing oceans. That day I no longer need to write to you but hope to speak in person. Asking why now and not then, and all my untold stories. And most enchanting will be to hear you speak to me with your beautiful unheard voice. I cannot imagine how I shall weep listening to your song of silence. Your eyes shall speak to me that day of how you journeyed along my entire life trying to reach me and yet the distance that kept growing in between.
And when April reach you tomorrow with my letter, you shall know that my words are still warm like how I feel you within myself. My letter is like a glass of water, from these words you drink my sorrow and leave the glass not empty but full of your warm breath of hope.