…at the edges of darkness

In my dreams there is a place, a shining, silken place
soft and rolling with a texture in and of itself
in its hills and hollows there is bold creation in wild abandon
a topography designed by greater gods
a landscape of mountains and oceans stretching out forever
a golden desert sparse with vegetation
warm with the rosy hues of morning
and cold in the shadows of night
there are subtle hidden places where unexpected fires rage
uncontrolled, unquenched
constantly drenched with warm precipitation
its raging torrents slicing through the heat
there is quiet contemplation
there is calm reflection in the cooling rain
but the dark caverns hidden deep within
hold urgent, searing secrets
just as I, they have always sought discovery and satiation
but this dark landscape is not for the faint hearted
it has pain and pleasure, trials and treasures
it is a paradise with plenty
but I  may only hold a single place in memory forever
one sensation resounds over and over, together with a feeling
that I cannot quite recall, yet I feel it as the weather
I cannot hold it in my mind for but a minute
yet it still holds me suspended in its grip
in this place, in this dark, haunted place
in this place of sudden, bright exposures
this experience, this haunting echo of something not yet forgotten
still lingering at the edges, of darkness
© Ann Bagnall