…to have wings

Dying in the dark
my colours faded
I ache to have wings
so that I can fly high into the sky
far from the things
that trouble me

where I could be endlessly circling
in splendid solitude
far from the caverns of darkness
far from the howls and the scent
of the blood of the beast

where the soft sun
in the light of the day will bless me
with the warmth of her kisses
and the melancholy moon
in the velvet night
will drench me in her violet tears

in the seasons of branches
and the seasons of blooms
I would swim above it all
in the chambers of heaven
where the light is always rising
and always setting
but is never, not ever
extinguished

where the songs of darkness
are soft and beautiful
and nature’s veils, sheer and floating
shift weightless
where the wind paints the heavens
with its gentle brushstrokes
in service to sky and sea

where, as I watch in endless wonder
the clouds, the stars and my heart
all fathomless
are still drifting
in a portrait of darkness
now framed in a strange soft light
© Ann Bagnall