Long Faithmemory Poems

Leaving

I lie forlorn beneath freshly fallen snow;
once a bridal veil, now a shroud.
I will not feel the first spring rain.
I will not feel the sweetness rush through me.
Disconnected from the flow, prostrate;
a fallen form freezing to a forgiving ground.

Beside me, remnants of my former glory lean.
Boughs plucked, pieces bent into the endless circle
marked with a blood red bow.

I lie dreaming now with the fallen leaves, 
a glorious memory of sunshine, songbirds, soft rain,
and strong winds, swaying in the crisp fall air.

As the last, remnants of memory bloom, 
a multitude of bright prismatic light 
and the sound of tinkling glass rises
to bring me homeward,
crowned with the evening star
my fallen spirit rises.