Season of Silence
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About grief..
Inspired by the prompt " winter's slumber" contest sponsored by Regina Mcintosh.
When nature wilts into
a colorless haven,
metaphors of death sprout
from timeless roots~
easing through relentless gales of grief.
Like the lulling of
nocturnal nightingales,
nestled in nests
of hibernating serenades..
Life is a p o e m framed
in f l o a t i n g memories~
hung behind
a vintage scarf
of vanilla f l a s h b a c k s
Every rhyme swiftly
evaporates into
paper-cut sunsets,
while the first
flake
of frost
resembles the
depth of grief we home~
divine light of the creator
seeps in amidst
mourning rainbows,
comforting the greying
dawn dressed with
seasonal s i l e n c e
I am a sunken
s e a lily
drifting along a
glacial lake of lament,
finding solace in
faith that flickers
through sapphires~
scattered as a
glimmer of hope
across arctic skies…
And when the last
ray of gold wanes
into a hushed slumber,
my onyx ink bleeds
coral lines in
glows of gloaming,
chasing
bed-shaped
clouds that purge
mauve mists upon
porcelain fields,
cloaked in crystal
clear tears of
yesterday’s chaos.
I hear sullen symphonies
echoing from
the sandalwood
essence of death,
composed in refined
refrains across
rhythmic ruffles
of wintry rivers.
Sometimes, moon-soaked
memoirs enclasped
in silver credence,
reflect the final embrace
with familiar fragrances,
like souvenirs of l o s s
while time keeps ticking
within a snow-globe
of
frozen heartbeats,
flaming
colors of change
keep cruising through
the
seascape of misery.
But, between the
bittersweet blizzards
of fragmented dreams,
I find peace,
in the
aftermath of
heavy rainfalls.
The euphonious
tune of nature,
has a way of reminding
all that which breathes,
that a winter slumber,
is an
eternal ethereal plan,
to reunite spirits in a
seraphic sanctuary above
doleful darkness that
suffocates blistered
skin of
wounded willows.
So tonight,
as diamond
flurries come
s w i r l i n g
through the wispy wind,
let these
ice-melting
letters t w i r l
before funeral carols,
waltzing to the
whirlwinds of demise,
as an evergreen epitaph
engraved on the
tombstones of tomorrow.
For, I will wrap
trembling torment
in a cosmic
blanket of baptized bliss,
stitched with
leafy remnants
from weathered gardens.
Copyright © Ink Empress | Year Posted 2024
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