Thursday, 24 May 2018

Far Away

Bosch, from 'Garden of Earthly Delights'
In silent motion
the birds form an orderly procession
each an integral part, yet together one
And I stare and wonder where they head
do they know or is it instinct that drives them 
far away, from me

Thoughts return
but less so now, for time creates   
distance and a gulf forms. Where waters flow
to bathe tired limbs and soothe wounds that once 
bleed deep but now healed, leaving traces
of fragmented memories 

As the birds soar
away into the horizon, wings in unison
they glide effortlessly, over a gulf too wide to cross
so I leave behind the caress of soft grass
and join them on their journey 
far away, with me

© the dishonest woman