…the rekindled spark

The days of sorrow are no longer ours
we are adrift upon the sea, upon the edge of desire
the wild red scent of passion, tempts us to swim deep
into the depths of each other’s eyes
we are rising from the ashes and ready to bloom
we know each other from lifetimes before
we never really parted we were just floating
gently washed away into the formless light
but caught upon a silken web
where dark messengers whispered to us
of the rekindled spark of our surrender to the flames
and it felt so familiar, reminiscent of a dream
this point in time has been waiting for us
and so, like risen ghosts we reach for what we seek
we take it all and fill ourselves to overflowing
with the white-hot fire of need
© Ann Bagnall