Into Tales

Bleak, the day flows into night.
The thunderstorms are coming.
Nature speaking in her wrath sublime.
There was a time she only chose to know
the wildflowers in the sacred bloom
of summer hours. Where bliss was
floating in the air, serenely.

Lone, but never lonely, she went on.
Imbibing in the brightness of the sun.
Absorbing every ray of relevance.
And there, the breeze would come
to cool the skin. What more could
any living being ask of life in time...?
But just to lay there and absorb
the energy of sun and moon and wind.

A fateful day. The rays were changing.
Burning hotter, rearranging man's security.
Burning bright. An awful fright was rising
in its fall. Society had planned another
great cotillion ball. She never was invited
after all. Floating on a buoyant cloud,
still she went on.

What was it that awakened her just then...?
When gazing towards the sun, she spied
a rainbow shining, too complete for words.
Circling the long way all around the mighty sun.
Could it be a miracle...? Or was the life she'd known
set on the run by that phenomenon...? That was
the day he entered in. Claiming the control
of thin threads wavering within her. Yet too,
that was the day demise began to rise into her life.

The light, oh how she loved it. It mattered not
its source, just that it shone. Within the twilit
zones of their complexity. Healing the darkness
with its meaning at the core of all they saw.
The darkness, then, was gathering in him.
Not blind, but choosing not to feel the love.
Of life. Of thee. Of she. United in an ardent
symmetry.

Where once a butterfly was born and meant
to take to flight - the chrysalis decayed within
the damp and dusky night. For he had never
dared the flight into love's freedom.
The sun was burning brilliantly above.
As far below, the love was burning up.
The secrecy and sorrow. Oh, host
of the tomorrows never met - unendingly
complete - somehow he wept them into her.

A travesty of dreams assassinated.
Limply braided into tales
he never dared to tell within
the gist of the reality he chose...

? Michaelette ?

11/23/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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