Saoirse
Saoirse
Saoirse have I named her
that other one of me
who floats just outside
this poor realty.
her eyes are bright filled
with a light far beyond my ken
yet all I have been warned about
she sees.
mind quick silver
shapes thought from dream
and frees it for infinity
too filter through the clouded mind
below in the waiting room of earth
longing and fear entwine
rabid lovers feast on the unsurity
of a well groomed life
I pray to her
though she is me
in words that make no sound
but, “only if”.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2018
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