Sunday, December 18, 2011

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.