Gradually

Sleepy lethargy took hold

of the nightwatcher

As his weary flesh, blood and bones

Fought to stay awake

Waiting patiently for break of day

With sodden wet clothes

Clinging to bones

He breathed cold air into hands

Whilst dreams of warmer lands enticed...

Imperceptibly at first

It came,

A distant sound

Carried softly on the wind.

He strained to listen

Doubting his senses,

listening to the remote strains

Of a far off harmony.

He deliberately slowed his breathing

To listen more as his eyes strained against

The screen of fog restricting his view

Then again came the harmony

Only to fade and die,

Leaving him feeling strangely bereft.

He walked to starboard

Delight blooming in his heart

Leaning further overboard

Enraptured and entranced

He heard it once again

He was falling ever deeper

Succumbing to the wail

Of the sirens call

I stand before you

Bare, bold, naked

To hold a mirror

Against your hatred

From nowhere

Like motes in the air

Notes begin to appear

Ethereal to the eye

Soft as the sigh

Of breath upon your face

Gliding over your senses

You feel their touch

Origin unknown.

Whether a force of rage

Or state of grace

For a time

You each occupy the same space.

Words can touch your heart

Or destroy your soul,

Obliterate your being

Or leave you whole,

And though the author

You cannot see

You get to know them intimately.

Though the origin of the author

Is often unknown

When words are shared

Your not alone.