…but the silence of my falling tears

Shadows are softly shifting, slowly drifting
I hear the quiet sighs from another lifetime
suddenly, the petals are falling again
an unexplainable anomaly
fragrant and deep pink
soft as wishes caught in a strange wind
that does not belong to the waking world
they dance like memories
in a hazy shimmering, like light on water
then suddenly vanishing into the darkness
as though returning to the source of all forgotten things
in the silence that follows
I feel the insistent pull, of the threads of haunting
a tether from the past, that winds itself around my heart
it is gentle, but I cannot escape its embrace
I think of the dreams that were lost
before they ever came true
like the mournful call of, the nightingale
I am wistfulness and and I am melancholy
as another night is approaching, on swift silent wings
I am just drifting on the cresting sea, in the darkness
and in the languishing years, there is nothing here
but the silence of my falling tears
© Ann Bagnall