Was It He ?
Tonight began with the colours of bruise.
Sleep spilt grit on tears as intent crumbled.
Ears listened awake to a dreamy confusion.
Sorrow's mind questioned what lay undone.
Was it he
who, now timeless, caught my numbness
and lit again love's liquid windows
before grief's descent froze my dreaming ?
Was it he
healed disillusion and showed me ways
to the blaze of a waiting Eternity
and its help with fickle fate's unexpected ?
Eyes opened to answers of no surprise.
Purple mood faded as thinking reversed.
Smiles of knowing threw dry on wet saline.
Tonight will not end before death-cell bursts.
It was he
and the contact still sings to my spirit.
- Author: Fay Slimm. ( Offline)
- Published: February 13th, 2017 11:25
- Comment from author about the poem: Just imagining the effect of meeting in dreams those who are gone and ever missed This is a verse of surreal longing after losing to death a much loved soul-mate. Hoping the metaphor and phrasing can be understood.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 58
- User favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy.