Unwinding
A choice presents itself: to wind the strings
of memory around my longing state,
or find the breathless candle at the end
of a long corridor of time that still
keeps faith with light, that will invite a dream
to weave its wisdom, seize my mind and not
its melancholy, where the riches are.
There is some comfort, wallowing among
the callow simpering of tender angst
but it is temporal, its stumbling quest
will slumber fitfully, its rest in vain.
There is that candle, with its strength bestowed
in peace—its blazing fire of love fair strowed
upon a cosmic heart, outrageous in
its pretense to be frail.
It has become a flame transcendent in
its zeal for change, and as we watch the self
it is no more indulgence of the past,
but in its place, a gracious gathering
of an eternal now.
~
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