Category Archives: Writing > Poetry > 2010

O’er the long way home again
The roads came alive in mist,
With pow­der fresh, in rivulets
The tides of night do flow

Ever onward, creep­ing forward,
Not a step or turn in retreat,
Steer­ing true as the snow drifts
Guide me soft­ly, soft­ly home

Their shape­less, danc­ing torrents
Cry out in a vision of silent joy
And as seen by nary a traveller
They are loved by even fewer

Yet take heart, ye worn and wary
For this win­ter’s close to hand
Curl up by your hearth this eve
And feel its blan­ket over the land

And now we begin a sea­son new,
With its won­der­ment borne true,
To laugh and leap, dance and sleep
In the com­fort of her frozen hand.

Frost gnaws up from the ground;
The sun­rise he sees is ashen.
Antic­i­pa­tion flares to desire,
Dead winds tear through his hair.

Tum­bling cur­rents strike daylight;
The solar sneer illu­mi­nates his breath.
He has no need for helm or weapons;
The long march rust­ed them away.

The day­light is blinding;
It obscures his vision.

The sky is lined of azure crystal;
Its anx­i­ety fer­ves­cent and tangible,
The world inhales above him.

The day­light is blinding;
It blots out the future.

His silent chrysalis in release;
Invis­i­ble armour grows around him,
Crowned by two smoul­der­ing embers
Flick­er­ing, alive, in his eyes.

The thoughts rush ever faster,
The words all the closer.
No return.

The day­light is blinding;
He longs for the solace of night.

No one comes forth to retell this story;
He stands before his battlefield,
Too scared to close his eyes.

The day­light is blinding.
But he surges ahead.

The winds shall reveal their secrets,
in due time, with sooth­ing grace

And many days of emer­ald valleys
can show the strength of climbers,
in sol­i­dar­i­ty with determination

But only the stars,
in fiery loqua­cious promise,
beck­on­ing the soul to strive,
can tru­ly show you freedom.

One day, we shall be those stars.