Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Long Road Home

Buds burst, a delicate fragrance -
remembrances drift slowly 
upon a soft Spring breeze.

Her bold, silent eyes drew him into her circle 
where he lingered, stroking her golden hair.

His quiet gestures of kindness and strength 
made her feel weak, yet full of love's power 
as she held his solemn face in her hands.

Her tempests grew gentle, 
sculpted by warm, laughing currents 
swirling within her belov├ęd's touch.

Surreal seasons subdued raging tides 
of a once-bright bride, now a weary widow 
whose shadow falls and fades with retreating light.

Parched by drought, humbled by doubt, 
a shell made hollow by savage storms of April
endured in an unknown country. 

It is a secret place she cannot know, 
an unspoken curse in the sleepless night, 
a weight she must somehow bear.

She bends and sighs, 
not yet defeated. 

Her pale, trembling fingers  
try to smooth thin tufts of displaced grass 
upon his narrow bed, 

her forever now buried 
beneath Winter's cold, cruel ground.