…circling in my still waters

I hear the sound of bells pealing circling in the realms of darkness
it signals to me that the midnight hour has now begun
but the bells are so distant that I cannot tell
if the sound comes from faraway or somewhere even closer
just as it seems that the fog is circling me here
and the grey is closing in
yet the horizon, is ever clear, a puzzling dichotomy
I am standing upon a deck in the middle of nowhere
unsure if I am on a sinking ship or if this is my destination
and disembarkation is nothing to fear
constantly drifting by definition, I am moving
weightless and free like the butterflies
directionless, that circle me
or the slow drifting clouds in a gentle, fragrant breeze
where I am headed is unclear to me
but this drifting, this endless, slow drifting
has me shifting, back and forth in the trembling shadows
wings of darkness, wings of light
stark against the sky in endless circles of flight
constantly transitioning between
unknown places and unseen faces
the clouds obscure the stars
and unable to plot a course, I cannot find my way
losing my place in reality
my scattered thoughts are mindless pirouettes
lost in a wilderness, in the unconquerable sorrow
of the weeping silence and still I am drifting
far away, so far away from the shallow waters
where I last found peace
I am now the passing breeze
searching in the bare branches of trembling winter trees
for a way out of this forest
for the answers to my unasked questions
for a way to break these chains
to quiet these mindless flights of fancy
my unspoken longings
in the absence of answers I am surrounded by echoes
an endless repeating song of the cold voiceless abyss
and I am drifting again, circling in my still waters
where pain finds its own level
leaving no trace of me
© Ann Bagnall