…are coming back to life

Night is slowly falling, darkness creeping across the sky
candle flames tremble in the cool shafts of moonlight
drowning in the hours, I hear the the past calling to me
and the morning feels oceans away
deep in the corners of my restless dreams
something in the shadows is quietly whispering to me
seeking discovery in this desolate place
something that I should remember, yet I can’t quite recall
I can’t hold in my mind for but a minute
but it still holds tightly on to me
upon these desolate seas of endless shoreless nights
in the slow, gentle, undulations of my dreams
I live between the whispers and the endless echoes
of all the unspoken things, that might have been
until the rhythmic waves of awakening, are calling to me again
in their varied cadence of pleasure and pain
here in this haunted dark terrain, in this place of bright exposure
this echo of something not yet forgotten
winds are shrieking like banshees
awakening my memories and all the things left unsaid
and secrets that the winds will not confide
my ghosts are coming back to life
as a window opens onto the aching midnight sea
where again with you, I long to lie and watch the stars
exceeding heaven, ecstasy in flight
© Ann Bagnall