April 23, 2017
 |  62 Comments

I feel the dead silence of the once roaring sea
waves violet splashed unto these long fingers
I too feel the apathetic murmurs that encircle
and yet, place a fragile heart upon their palm.

I, long to run, into the arms of days long gone
when, the world, seemed not bleak nor harsh,
to count, colors that adorn the rainbow above
while spirit is unbending, resolute and sound.

Oh! but unlike you, I refuse, to be imprisoned,
I, would rather drift amidst the moon and sun,
whisper secrets to the birds hiding in the trees.
I, round blossoms red, dance with honey bees.

I, would scream hope, and fling to wildflowers
lest, the world, seals lips, with growing insults.
I, would weave harmony into the thread of life,
lest, this season, brings floods, famine and fire.

‘Until death serenades and sets me free.’

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

I chose to contemplate Christina Rossetti’s ‘The Thread of Life.’

Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads

and Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month

& Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United