Odyssey & Penance

What if dawn peered from the south,
The currents breathed from the east,
And the moon was one of three –

What if bees no longer buzzed,
Peonies bowed in heart break,
And endless clouds covered the sea.

What if brooks stopped their babble,
The elk’s echo rang empty,
And ravens roost in languished trees –

What if regret blew in storms,
Hope lay in the bleak doldrums,
And the dream was no longer free.

Through the wings of a monarch,
All that was, became silence.
And I, bearing my lantern,
Plod upon white sands to you.

So, even if the sun flares and wanes,
The night’s shade hovers far north,
And in babies breath stars may fall –

Even if the trout’s shimmer fades,
The lakes seep through arid cracks,
And glowworms are snuffed by ashfall –

Even if fires rage on doves’ plumes,
The wolves howl in great despair,
And the web of fate could befall –

Even if fear may churn as fog,
In the ache of dusk, trust wilts,
And wrath weaves as ancient deadfall –

Amid the wings of monarchs,
All that was, became silence.
And yet I, bearing my lantern,
Plod upon white sands, to you.

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