Not to be feared


A foggy haze covers the surrounding land
A dampness clings to the air
Bare feet sinking into the sand
Waves crashing as I stare

In the distance something lingers
As still and bold as a tree
Cold winds bite at my face and fingers
As I contemplate what I see

Fear is not present; only a feeling of forlorn
For I know what lies ahead
In the grey light of an early morn

Inch by inch I draw near
Shedding old emotions as I go
One by one in the form of a tear
Quietly gliding down my cheek so slow

The only noise known to me is of my every breath
Deep and flaccid with every inhale
Not flustered by the thought of death

For I know what lies ahead
In the grey light of an early morn

Closer still I approach this solitary being
Mind and body focused intently
Not wanting to understand the meaning

The salty spray so prominent to the senses
Coating exposed skin
Tearing down walls, beating defenses
Bringing peace within

For I know what lies ahead
In the grey light of an early morn

Pausing a moment in the shallows of the sea
Reaching out my hand
Looming before me
A giant of a man

Yellow rays of sun begin to part the grey
Enveloping the both of us
Casting the cold away

Taking my hand into his own
Smiling all the while
Without a word my life was shown
Words and pictures compiled

"Take me home" I say
And with an embrace we fly
Worldly wieght fell away
As I whisper goodbye

For I know what lies ahead
In the grey light of an early morn


Dana



























2 comments:

To have great poets... there must be great audiences
~ Walt Whitman

Thank you for being that audience!

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