What was that I see
Over the bridge
Not two lovers walking in dance-steps
Not line of cars threading slowly
Away from the green lamp posts
To where the lake swallows
you
It is bleak darkness
As if the sun is lost behind trees
As if all the colors got sucked out
And wounded tightly in hard fist
Or is it I who is
lost
A bird
with wings heavy as pewter
with no driving instinct to return
To where "home" is
That is nowhere between
me
and the goddess with lion's mane
Magnificent but so pale
As ghost, listless and weary as
i
Where is the zest for life?
What secrets did we keep that broke our peace?
Our yesterdays changed us
All the energy is spent
lost
And though there is this undeniable longing
inside my chest
To return to the familiar womb
To gather all the light once more
and embrace your laughter
i am content with the cold
absence of
you
René Magritte, Homesickness (1940), oil on canvas.
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub: Everything We See, hosted by Melissa Lemay. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm for the ekprastic challenge. Thanks for your visits and comments.
