Post by amelie on Dec 17, 2003 12:08:46 GMT -5
The autumn wind sighs;
The year’s final breath,
Swirling the leaves
In a last death rattle,
As rust and damp mould
Groan for release and
The hard despair of winter.
It is a time of decay;
A time to pick and tear at
The frayed edges of dreams,
Woven by others but worn thin
And crumbling now to dust;
A tapestry of outmoded design,
To be swept down path and lane
As you walk out, listening
For the familiar click,
Of the door as it shuts softly
And irrevocably behind you.
These are the moments that define;
But as you tread the path
So often trod, your footsteps,
A noisy echo of better times;
Know they will leave no trace;
Their fade to silence will tell no tale,
Nor plead for your return;
Their greater betrayal
Will be to forget you.
And hold image of the faces
You cannot bear to face
For memory is all you will have,
Fading like the wan year,
Mirrored in their dull-eyed
Surprise, anger and relief
Vying for prominence on
The featureless canvas
Of Their bruised hopes,
As they realise you are gone,
And your problems
Are no longer theirs.
And you will never know
The meaning this day
Of the empty morning ritual:
Is it the quiet of indifference?
Or desolation, or both?
But cut from the cord
A second time, you are alone:
Bolder and more distinct;
You cast your own shadow now,
But also grown more small
So, who now will comfort you?
Will you turn to the dawn?
You are younger than sunrise;
Let her become mother,
And find sisterhood in
Winter’s bitter blast;
Form friendships in the stars
On frosted lonely nights:
Ephemeral companionship,
As fleeting as trust.
And find power in the beat
Of thunder, as it echoes
The fear in your own heart;
Seek solace where you may, child,
Till spring begins to claw
And scratch her way
Through her impacted shroud;
She is your best hope
In this time of transitions;
But for now, keep your eyes
Ever turned to the cruel sky;
There is always promise in each
New pattern in the clouds;
Find a patch of blue in the grey.