Untitled

It is as if
I had been away a while.
Exiled to a place
where there was no wind, no rain,
no air, no life.
a stagnant void,
a complacent shore

A place untenantable
by any thing living...
or dead...
Just a space
that does not occupy time.
And a time
that knows no place.

I am a lifeform
that has crawled out of the mud
and is feeling the moonlight  for the very first time,
in a long time.

The flesh still inhibits
what I know lies beneath.
I have to peel away
at so many layers
of gathered dust
and heavy gloom
to stretch the wings
that rattle like brittle branches
laden with ice.

I remember
what I am!
I have never really forgotten.
Just tangled
in the brambles at my feet.
So many thorns,
so few roses.

My muse,
sweet melancholy
ever faithful, ever true
reveals the path ahead,
and I turn away...
and sink into the moment
because of it's comfort.

The mud is a sweet elixir.
Makes you forget your soul,
but reminds you of your sorrow.

Last night,
I had a dream,
and it reminded me of
everything that mattered in my life,
and I got up happy,
and the day erased that dream....

It is as if
I have to choose,
but I know
the choice is already made.
And all I am waiting on
is time to reveal the  moment,
when everything ends...
and begins again.

It is a day of sadness.
A day I return
to where I once was,
and dreams end.