In the flicker of the light
And the crackle of the flame
I sense my vitality
Drift from me like the wispy
Shadowstuff of night-framed smoke.
I gaze up into brilliant,
Star-studded heavens bordered
By monolithic wraiths of
Knotted and straining towers;
Which are but oaks in the sun.
Above me exists a perfect
Circle of windowed sublime;
Subtle glassy essence of
My insignificant fire,
And insignificant woe…
As I glance about into
Gently dancing, black, grey, and
Orange-red shades of darkness,
Somewhere within wood confines
I face my own unknown depths.
Barred memories, with dev'lish
Fury, force my attention
To a painfully yearned for
Past which now but in dreams has
Tenuous reality.
It is the casual hoot of
A prey-seeking owl which saves
Me from my most formal foe--
This exiled enemy
Enthroned amidst happy times.
Soft silver light caresses
The twisted, dewy branches
Which stretch into my vision,
As the Goddess turns her eye
'Pon my plight of denial.
Her silver-white radiance,
Falling rousingly upon
My thoughts, entices strong walls
To buckle under softly
Silent, warmly chilling strokes.
With the cry of my ever
Familiar soaring grey hawk
And a final heartfelt sigh,
My mind rasps open to feel
Anon what it knows is lost....
I stare blindly into warm,
Earthily absorbing eyes,
Which echo my loving gaze
In their Gaean brown prisms,
And I numbly sense the strands
Of her obsidian hair
As they glisten through calloused
Fingers long awaiting this
Brief moment's encounter with
Her now ethereal form.
I awake not to the warmth
Of the sun nor red embers,
But to her rose fragrance, and
Her haunting being in arm...
And my soul is gravely home.
