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you are tethered here now
by just a few threads
gossamer thin
that flex and strain with
each laboured breathe

soon  the last of  them
will  fray and break
and you will be free
to float away

to see and enjoy
new vistas
to be
unencumbered
by that, that drew
you down into the dark

then untethered
you will fly to the heavens
like a bird, small against
the blue, blue sky

or perhaps more akin
to a dandelion seed
be taken by a gust of wind
to a new environ
mayhaps, a cliff top
by a shining blue sea
and there to take seed
and grow again and again
whilst the sea kisses the sand
And now she is...rest in peace... my mothet died peacefully  as dawn broke on the 6th of April...
I was walking
and the ocean
was above my knees

I didn't feel the cold
or mist hanging silent
above, but I knew
the darkness, old friend,
longer than I will admit

I knew the waves
in ways I know
I could never explain

You found me there
and called out for me
to come out of that grave
I was sinking in, I don't know
how deep I would have gone
had you not known my name

I should drop to my knees
and kiss the salt from your feet
thanking you with the sea on
my lips and leak salt of my own
offering gratitude for calling

Thank you through the mist
and waves, thank you for
my heart beating, not feeling
the cold, for my lips that never
tasted the lightless far below

Thank you for following
my footprints when I was lost,
drowning in a sea of sorrow.
Why must a heart beat?

To keep a rhythmic marching time through life?
That common tempo keeping order in
our lawless world of hate and fear death.
Each heartbeat rallies troops across the globe,
a single feature shared in every life,
an army built on spirit, crying out
with every thump that we are one.

But what must hearts beat for?

To beat we mean to say 'to fight,'
and for what better cause to fight than love?
That painful pleasure wielding power both
to wreck lives and create them,
the strength it gives to those from whom it stole in battles past.
Enamoured and encased in armour,
steeled against the pain before
as drums beat faster
palms grow sweaty
the tempo quickens
gazes steady
you brace and lean in
gently
and surrender to his kiss
as he gives in to yours,
your battle won by both
as both your drums keep time in perfect synchrony
your breaths the perfect melody that keep
the perfect peace.
As long as there is life, there is love.
Your words lack meaning when backed by lies.
They pour out your mouth but drip through your eyes.
They fall like rain, the forecast reads pain.
But you must let them out to keep yourself sane.

They echo and haunt your every single thought.
A salvation you wish that you simply just bought.
Your soul up for bid, but who do we kid?
Its value diminished by the truth that you hid.

The list of your sins would make Satan blush.
Your hell is the product of dreams that you crush.
A spectator sport, with no need for support.
You glow in the spotlight cast down on the court.

Nothing remains as you receive your fate.
The harshest reality for all of your hate.
Condemned to the fact that you made a pact,
Your soul was the fee for the devil to attract.
Dance swiftly, my briar rose,
for in autumns lament you shall not seek repose

Cry bitterly,  my willow tree,
for the silver haired maid is long lost at sea

Sing serenely, my morning stars,
for the poetic moon is no longer ours

*
... Hear my whispers in the dark ...
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