Captives

Beauty-words languish in my soul, mute, a million misty drops suspended, trembling, in the atmosphere not yet spoken into rain. They lie captive within the barred cage, innocent prisoners condemned to voiceless wonder, only an inaudible cry strikes the barred breast, a silent beating against the cell. We would speak; We are pierced with beauty's burning sword! We see the stars sweep trailing skirts in explosive splendor; we warm ourselves beside the opal's captive fire; we are the pearl forming within the darkened shell, the silken crepe tightly wound around the worm, the captive butterfly bound in insular cocoon. Copyright, September 2, 2015