…no longer turn

The morning lingers in the last embrace of darkness
as still and silent as the dew
in this brief interval between night and day
this moment of perfect peace
our two wandering souls are briefly untethered
share with me one last dance, one last embrace
before the inevitable separation, the recurring devastation
while the seasons endlessly turn
shifting from new blooms, to burning days and endless light
to barren trees devoid of their leaves, to the dark depths of winter
our seasons no longer turn
there are no blossoms, no light, nothing left to lose
frozen in time forevermore in this thin slice of silence
where the heavens allow our cyclical reconnection
which is both joyous and heartbreaking
a gentle torture we both endure
for the alternative is undetermined
there are no maps to heaven or hell
no promises made that can be kept
here in the in between, there is only our silent symphony
our ode to endless love
for death may be permanent
and life may be limited but love is eternal
our souls forever entwined
we are never really lost and never really apart
here in the shadows and the silence
we find ourselves, over and over
© Ann Bagnall