…no longer turn

The morning lingers
in the last embrace of darkness
as still and silent as the dew
in this brief interval
between night and day
this moment of perfect peace

our two wandering souls
are briefly untethered
share with me one last dance
one last embrace
before the inevitable separation
the recurring devastation

while the seasons endlessly turn
shifting from new blooms
to burning days and endless light
to barren trees devoid of their leaves
to the dark depths of winter
our seasons no longer turn

there are no blossoms, no light
nothing left to lose
frozen in time forevermore
in this thin slice of silence
where the heavens allow
our cyclical reconnection
which is both joyous
and heartbreaking

a gentle torture we both endure
for the alternative is undetermined
there are no maps to heaven or hell
no promises made that can be kept
here in the in between
there is only our silent symphony
our ode to endless love

for death may be permanent
and life may be limited
but love is eternal
our souls forever entwined
we are never really lost
and never really apart
here in the shadows and the silence
we find ourselves, over and over
© Ann Bagnall