DROWNING

The wind was crying in my sleep
beating wings against an ivory cage
seeking release
from this puppetry
this shadowplay of love
this mockery of life

Motions followed, emotions enacted
by habit, by rote
But the hearth is cold
silent for so long
not even ashes remain
to smear on the faces
of dead regrets

A distant memory
of fire
of turning towards
the warming sun
Fingers outstretched
wanting to grow
towards a shining promise

So tender then
too tempting
too trusting
too blinded by light
to see the scythe

Now
too dark to feel
too cold to be numb
too long a tunnel
to a dim and painful end
Alone...

Currents too deep for air
A drowning greyness
has filled up
all the secret places
where embers once glowed

Once a sanctuary
in a former age
Now a clenched padded cage
for beating wings
longing , remembering
to fly
at last....

 

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