…to all who can hear

I am but a silhouette
a shifting shadow of emptiness
dark lines traced against the light
undefined and distant
I was once more than this
my flames quenched so long ago
abandoning me to the night

unwillingly mute, yet still I speak
not in words, but motion
my tendrils write in inked calligraphy
my silence sings to all who can hear
the trembling words that I set free
etch me into your memories

I become the ache you cannot name
the unreachable warmth
that lingers, long after the dream
I am the sweet hush between moments
that carries more meaning
than any sound could ever convey

let time and space misplace me
let them write me out of their pages
for I am no less real, for lacking flesh
see me dance in the music of the sky
and swim in the mirrors of the sea

watch me fly far from my obscurity
my ethereal form may be my destiny
but my soul, even in silhouette
controls my artistry
© Ann Bagnall