to have and to hold

Small fragile fear, like the wing of a bird…

gently fluttering overhead. 

then the vast storm that sweeps in

and seals the room in its fury

blowing about until nothing is

left but meaningless words

and timeworn stories.

Sometimes you are drowning

in the darkness

hoping to find something
to hold on to...            

But other times you are waiting 

for the giraffe...the one
you've always wished to have...
a lion comes but you send
him away knowing it is not
what you need.

For a moment you follow

the sweet fragrance 

of freedom and escape.

It is an illusive aroma
that leads you to the edge
of the abyss
and suddenly you are spinning,

your feet planted firmly

yet sensing the turn of the earth

until someone takes

your hand and the twirling stops

The startling silence is broken

by the voice

that will navigate you through

the strong current that threatens

to send you adrift  in the river,

lost forever

under the sky so clear

it holds no clues

to finding your way back.