…yet holding on to their light

I am the sorrow
upon the breeze of memories
beneath softly blooming cherry trees

I am the wild mist
circling a deep, darkening sea
through endless weeping rain

I am the troubled soul
of the nightingale
whoever sings
in solitude against the night

I am the tendrils
of all my broken dreams
forever drifting, on the river of time

I am the silent reflections
of the aching moon
etched upon the silvery snow

I am the melancholy poems
of the nightingale
ever drifting, in the dark tapestry of night

I am the ancient ocean
my crucible of tears
ebbing out, into black tides of loss

I am the scattered stars of night
broken like promises
yet holding on to their light

I am the whispering sonnets
of the nightingale
ever soft, like calming winds, in trees

I am the dust of all my days
adrift in evanescent hues
against the dark

I am the colours of dawn
lost in deep echoing pools
fading too early like a rose

I am the falling querulous notes
of the nightingale
ever aching to lie at last in sweet repose

© Ann Bagnall

** A poem from my book ‘I Am The Mirror Empty Without You‘ published on Amazon**