Colours In The Mist

Colours In The Mist

The last dead leaves are burnt as winter nears

Their fiery funeral smoulders out

‘Til smothered in extinctions’ final doubt

Why am I moved more easily now?

Words brushed like quiet whispers

One more forgotten promise

The sound of each and every leaf is pain

The door of tears is open

Fragile as a spring blossom

And unconditional as the sun and air

So soon our separation

Like the struggle against the sea

Who taught the swallows

To make so light of parting?

Now the path is lost, now it is time

Who can predict, when we may meet

Or again, must part?

Forgotten as a drop of water in a storm

As you leave, the gentle breeze goes too

In the dying night, like a dying leaf

Impermanent as existence

As passions at the end of time expire

No longer fuelled by evil from the past

The purgatorial flames die down at last

And, finally blown out

Return to rest

Empty verandahs

That echo with unheard footsteps

Feel suddenly hollow

A gentle sorrow

Yet a rush of staining tears

Tender souls so far apart

Like wafting silks, this floating life

Where shall this controlling wind

Let my soul alight at last?

In time we shall find a place

The dreams of the night

Fade with the morning sunlight

Gone, like morning clouds

By too many lonesome miles

The wrinkles of the coverlet

The last of the blossoms

The down of willow flowers

Come falling, floating, down

The nature of wind is permanent

A distant heart

Desiring less and less

Possessing nothing

I am not possessed

All down the years

All that the mind forgets

Are colours in the mist now

Yet still

Still I am drawn

To ever search for you

In dreams

© Ann Bagnall 2014.


3 thoughts on “Colours In The Mist

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