…is ever truly lost

I use my words to process pain
to learn to live with loss
to have conversations with grief
and to soothe my aching heart
I create metaphors
for all that is unspoken

I carve images in empty spaces
from memories and wishes
and why nots and what ifs
and all the secrets buried
in my hearts’ dark abyss

I drag each line in my creations
unwillingly
from the depths of my desolation
the consequences of love
a seemingly bottomless pit

once held in isolation
now released
to unexpected scrutiny
unashamed, my words delight
in singing joyously

and stepping gracefully
out of the darkness
dancing upon
the long-neglected grave
of my hitherto unshared misery

they do not fill the room
with their songs, but they whisper
just as the wind whispers softly
to the ocean, in both the flow
and the inevitable ebb

and as the moonlight
whispers to the trees
with or without their leaves
my weightless words
carry a heavy burden

a responsibility
to find that fine line
between darkness and light
to reveal beauty
in unexpected places

to portray the reality
that nothing is ever truly lost
that the things I never held
still leave an imprint
in their wake

and love, is still love
even in the silence
where its waves still call to me
forming the heart
of my art

my pen tracing
the curves of each wave
each rise and fall
a reminder of our love
in all its beauty and its pain

crafting images in words
weaving beauty from darkness
creating a softness
to cushion the constant presence
and absence, of you

in the magic of poetry
I can create memories
lighter than starlight
or butterflies
that can carry me away
into the vanishing night
© Ann Bagnall