Loud, But Not Clear

I know you're out there somewhere, calling/probing;
I hear/feel your unearthly shouting/sending.
We don't have the right ears/machines to hear
That noise/signal that is never-ending.

We are searching with our half-opened eyes
Through too many points in a point-filled sky.
I wonder which point of light you are,
That I can sense your presence from afar?
Why are we looking right past each other?
Are we not ready to find one another?

© MadPoetnExile

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