Escape From the Chair
escape from the chair
early evening
September sun falls
in blazing glory
through a cathedral
window of the
last judgement
then softens
to a nursery of muted hues.
I would leave
this chair of grasping pain
and rise up a lark
singing and free
swoop as many
coloured prayer flags,
greet the gods,
for all my size
the heart rings true
with chiming anthems
of joy and grace
until the orb sinks
its charming face
through the last murmurs
of twilight floating then melting
into the black waters of the lake.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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