winter light

[Guest guest]

winter light

 

 

 

behind that old familiar door,

do you ever hesitate to turn your key?

would you walk into an unknown wilderness?

would you fly away, gathered up by the winds of chance?

returned once again

to the broken promises of dreams you left behind?

a treasure chest adrift in a turquoise sea?

would you follow a few dancing leaves,

filled with the forest

musk, bury yourself in sepia tones of songs you

hardly knew?

would you touch the breast of the sleeping woman

inside your head with

the pink hush of silence upon your lips?

hasten to fall inside the dark and secret caves of her

with your rage against all the falseness of your youth,

words you have slain like the samarai of your imagination?

would you feel free and brave enough to follow the rainbow

passage of your own elegance,

your serpentine wants, ingratiate yourself in the colours of sunrise

as it melts into a poem?

would you let the blossoms of spring enter your house through

that window facing a sea, let the tulips and the jonquils

form a heart, already broken in two,

tinder the music-box with a moonlight sonata?

 

before you open that door,

of all that has come before,

would you now take notice of how the winter light shines through

a crack in the door, how there is only white, with patches of blue,

as if the whole world opens into

your living room,

 

as if you had forgotten

you were an evergreen,

nests of wonder growing

sweet moss on the North side of you,

now turning

that key slowly

ever so slowly..

 

 

 

 

~A