The North wind is blowing again;
gaily dancing puffs of smoke come
out to play its song in streaks across
the cloud strewn autumn sky. It is
time to gather ourselves inside and
finally come to contemplate just what
the spring and summer meant to us
and to all others.

Is the world a better place because
we're here, in any way? Your soul is
screaming out for its release. How is
it you can't seem to hear a single word
it says? It howls, almost menacing,
just like the cold and chill that winter
winds will always bring. You no longer
reside in the quiet eye of the storm, for
you've become the might and grandeur
of a mighty storm yourself.

Clouds of shadows swirl within those
eyes once bright with love and
tenderness; speaking of a bliss once
found, then suddenly denied a place
in being. Tears will never be enough
to clear those empty spaces of your
greatest fear from you. Your heart
beats sluggishly as if a rose were
frozen at the moment of its opening.

Shimmering, it's beauty held in lifeless
stasis - dead and yet it seems to be alive,
just like the multitude of feelings that
you hold so deep inside. A roar, a scream,
an agony, has come to be the many walls
by which you separate yourself from
your own heart and soul, and every other
in the world. Once upon a time, you
dared to love. (Oh love, it seems another
lifetime now!) Once you lived those
streaming days of dreams made more
than real.

Now you wonder how you ever will survive
another afternoon of nothing there. Frozen,
like the rose that almost bloomed itself
complete, but then just shattered into bits
of crystal ice. Will it ever came to know
the feel of flowing warmth within its veins

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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