…is like a whispered question

The days go by, and I endure the hours of endless night
the clock tolls over and over and time slips away
into the infinite emptiness of tomorrow
the leaves are falling, the light seems always close to dying
and the rain falls softly down, its melody is sad
like a thousand sighs from shivering trees
which throw their branches at the sky
and their shadows on the ground
as their red leaves fall and blanket the earth
where in the dappled light on a piece of twisted wood
two butterflies rest, dauntless in the quiet
and it is like watching heaven
as waves of calm wash over me
you took my heart but there is a fire still, a slow burn
my soul is a thirsty desert
touched by the bloom of flowers after heavy rain
and love is like a whispered question
and I will hear an answer upon the wind
© Ann Bagnall