Branching Hope

Image

Another misty moment more,

a cloud of light my heart cannot comprehend.

Has it truly slipped through my trembling fingers

once again?

 

Do I clutch hopelessly

like the trees trying to grasp the passing winds,

begging to be born aloft,

brought away,

carried in gentle hands

to some distant country called peace,

only to be blasted by the onslaught,

bared of all hastily-grown defenses

and shrouded in a snowy blanket

of cold oblivion?

 

And yet

the trees are graced,

for they continue to stand

though weighed down and cast in rushing glory,

and remain

with gentle hollows and spread branches

where a passing zephyr may take refuge awhile,

and the winds may always find

stillness.

 

So I’ll let this wind blow,

this stream of words and dreams

too swift to savor,

and I’ll spread my palms

to catch what gusts of grace may come

to ease my weary soul awhile.

 

I’ll open my heart

to these fellow pilgrims,

and perhaps see mirrored within

a hollow kept warm and ready

for my presence.

 

And when the snows fall

and blanket my eyes with blindness,

I will fall out of myself,

this dense wall I call my defense,

and let the love that was always there

carry me far away

to that distant country called peace.

Posted on February 14, 2013, in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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