…won’t leave me

My memories, once precious and bright
that I thought I could never forget
are now just echoes from the darkness
and here, here in this desolate place
in this imagined place, the picture is distorted
now a dark illusion, buried soul deep
there is a deep sense of isolation
yet somehow I feel it is a sacred place
a place where secrets were once shared
the echoes bring me a voice
that softly whispers of all the things that I have ever lost
and then there comes a deep silence
a silence without a centre, a silence without an end
a single cherry blossom, slowly drifting down in quiet perfection
the scent of wild flowers framing the spring stream
beyond the cliffs a wild sea
between the light and the shadows
between the earth and the sky
a breeze brushes against my skin
the dream of you won’t leave me
and the garden calls me still
© Ann Bagnall