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helios-rietbergPoems
I hear Lamentation They would always start the chants by daybreak Waking me from my already-light slumber Allowing me to rub my weary eyes for moments Before the deep chime of the bell signalled daylight I could never understand their devout worship as they fell on their knees murmuring words unheard to me But somehow there was something about the air Perhaps it was the incense always lit at the altars Maybe it was the quiet drone of their prayers Other times it must have been the sight of nature Years and years I spent in its hallways Always longing for the world outside Dreaming for the odd heaven-sent journey That would sometimes come flying my way Now I have different dreams Shown to me in elusive conical shades Driving the roots of every reverie Deep into my very core Flashes of other years Distant images unknown to me Illuminated by every hue and colour Lulling me gently But what it is to dream differently Yearn for the silence in the world Creeping up to us on dusk Sweeping apprehension Finally I returned home Dropping all my weight Pressing my forehead over to breathe.
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Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
Breathe
I hear Lamentation They would always start the chants by daybreak Waking me from my already-light slumber Allowing me to rub my weary eyes for moments Before the deep chime of the bell signalled daylight I could never understand their devout worship as they fell on their knees murmuring words unheard to me But somehow there was something about the air Perhaps it was the incense always lit at the altars Maybe it was the quiet drone of their prayers Other times it must have been the sight of nature Years and years I spent in its hallways Always longing for the world outside Dreaming for the odd heaven-sent journey That would sometimes come flying my way Now I have different dreams Shown to me in elusive conical shades Driving the roots of every reverie Deep into my very core Flashes of other years Distant images unknown to me Illuminated by every hue and colour Lulling me gently But what it is to dream differently Yearn for the silence in the world Creeping up to us on dusk Sweeping apprehension Finally I returned home Dropping all my weight Pressing my forehead over to breathe.
© Helios Rietberg, November 2011
helios-rietberg
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helios-rietberg
Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
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