On that day.
My memory shudders.
We parted forever.
In to desperate
Futures unknown.
Over and after this,
Mine led me here.
Letting my life
Unfold in words.
Weaving the history
I lived through,
In to something
Of truth, for
You to share.
With any others
You believe,
Would enjoy
This tale
Of mine.
Heavy and deep,
In silver grey
Smoke, my breath
Came, against sapphire
Night. It held
For a moment,
As elegant twisted
Statues, then
Dissolved all
Around. Wrapping
Me in a mist made
Solely of all
That I have ever
Breathed in.
But not wanted
To hold on to
Enough. So I
Let it escape
With my next
Smokey sigh.
You took my life.
To cut and fold.
And make origami cranes.
When you were done.
You let them go.
To fly and unfold
In the heavy rain.
Their flattening
Pure white bodies,
Become fish as they
Land, swimming
Always further faster,
Away from me.
You took my life
To cut and fold.
And made more
Beauty from it,
Than I ever had.
There is a well.
Wrapped in vine.
Peppered with
Hardy small flowers.
Its stone is
Slowly crumbling
Inward, filling
Its depths,
With remnants of
Itself.
Once I threw
A wish, carelessly,
Over its ledge.
Watched it spiral,
Until I could see
It no more.
Now, there is a well.
That I cannot find.
And it is burying
My wish.
I can only hope
It will grow.
My foot fell,
In the blackest
Of puddles.
Small it seemed.
Nothing unusual.
Until I had walked on
Many miles and more.
Still I dripped and
Trailed black water.
And nothing I found,
Could dry or stop
This leak, that now
Came straight from
My pale skin.
Even to this very
Day I am known
By my single
Dark step.
And cursed for
Having one foot
In a watery
Grave.
If I found you,
In a glimpse of moonlight,
In the darkest forest.
At the bottom of a lagoon,
In dappled icey sunlight.
On a mountain peak
Hugged by roaring gales.
I would not be surprised.
If I found you,
Sat here with me.
I would be
Horrified.
My arms
Are falling.
Back to my sides,
So heavy, dead.
A dark mist
Bleeds behind
Half lidded eyes.
Nothing stirs
Beyond dust
And stale air,
When I go to
Rise again.
Yet I breathe
So easily.
And still only now
Can I begin to
Believe.
That I have
Found the door
Between two
Worlds.
I saw it.
Neatly lined
Up and arranged.
Its place taken
Correctly on your
Thin bookcase.
Its spine thumb
Caressed over
So much time.
Those leather bound
Pages, printed
By a stranger,
But given to you.
To explain why
We would never
Both be here
Again, to see
It sitting
Innocently on
You shelves.
A crowd is gathering.
In fits and starts.
To the sound of a
Soft slow drummer.
Footfalls echo his
Rhythmic thumping,
As people join from far.
Surrounding the man
At the centre of all.
He who is the nucleus
Of this flock.
Stares intensely
High to the sky at his left,
For no reason at all,
Other than to see how
Many people would join,
How long they would all
Stay.
A crowd is growing.
I accepted a task
A long time a go.
To think,
Really think,
About something
Each and every day,
Without ever repeating
For all of time, and more.
Now it seems so much has
Passed under the bridge
Off away down the river,
Yet today for the first time
I find,
I have no topic to ponder.
So I think I too must
Finally sail away,
Light with the freedom
Of my failed task.
Then it Started 