No matter the time or the
space or the place,
the truth of our emotion must come through.
To attempt a delay may seem to save us for a day
from the truth of the pain that we carry inside;
but no matter our will, or our want, or desire,
the force of spirit burns too bright
to ever be ignored - and emotion
is the means of its expression.
A raging fire burns out of
An icy river raging in its course
is the only force of nature
that can stop the path of its destruction.
And there, just there -
standing still within this flow of life -
a fawn stands shaking, shivering;
nakedly, as trees are turned to ash.
Frozen toes and too, at once,
the heat of fire burning in its lungs.
Yet it knows, instinctively, this life goes on;
and a look of awe, exquisitely enlightening,
is showing in its eyes,
as its innocence becomes the mystery
of every answer in existence.
Yet back within the warp of
nothing seems the same as it once was.
Moments of eternity go on,
while minutes only press and stress
our system to such strange extremes,
that all we ever dreamed becomes
a faded memory
that can no longer please or tease
us back into reality at all.
And then the fall
of fear that leads
directly to denial -
and the minutes are delayed
as we stand frozen in the icy stream,
while heat releases reams of memories
within a killing rage of agony unspeakable;
that feels itself again, so startling real -
yet like the doe, finds innocence again -
just there, within the center of the stream.
If we follow blindly then
we’ll find our instincts turn it all
into the angel wings that take us home;
as soul becomes each particle
responding, passion rising into
loving streams of joy we ride -
flying high above the winds of time...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .