SHADOWS II

Brown shadows of Spring blooms

descend upon a pale grey urn

through the querulous creaking

of a wind vane in the shifting light.

Little dark suns wheel over a silver

etching of lanceolate leaves,

Earth, vane, floral silhouettes -

Life spins over a realm of ashes.

Reverie bears the weight of the Day

into Twilight, the inertia of

Time unmoving, of gloom unyielding,

bars the gate to memory's haven.

And I must traverse the fringes of my

soul where our roses blossom,

sister, their hues and shapes known,

remembered, yet nameless.

I shall await you amid the verdure that

held our wonder and reverence,

ere we surrendered such to words,

our spirits echoing water, leaf and air.

Some aberrant fragrance still casts its

curving lines upon our skin,

wispy coils curling past the soundless

sound of the wind on wing.

Would you tell of the peace of the dying,

of the wordless language of death,

of the eternal hush within a breathing

stillness beyond raging pain?

Shall we bide in our childhood's garden,

till the lark's golden bell sounds

Night's death knell, with the ancient well

drink in the Morning?

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: A THORN AMIDST ROSES

Source: www.pinterest.com

Artist: James Sant