The longest night.

At the darkening of the year, the nights blend seamlessly
Into the days that went before and the ones that are still to come.
At the darkening of the year, the skies cry raindrop-tears like
Liquid diamonds, enchanted and ephemeral, never lasting.
At the darkening of the year, leaves wilt and fall from the branches
That cling to them in despair, fearful of death, ignorant of spring.
At the darkening of the year, the mornings fight with dusk to cast
A soft and feathered light over the beaten and bowed earth.
At the darkening of the year, rebirth is longed for, but seems
To far away to be remembered, and only death rules.
At the darkening of the year, whether or not we believe, we
Remember a birth that was perhaps an ending, perhaps a death?
And at the darkening of the year, we fight the depth of night with
A brazen show of lights, of glitter, of tinsel and of excess.


© 2ndwitch, 04/12/14

The Meeting.

I met you, one day, unexpectedly, and since then
I have thought of you every day.
I met you, one day, when I was not looking to
Meet anyone, and since then
I have always watched.
Often in silence.
I met you, and for a while you walked with me,
You held my hand, or so I thought,
And walked along at my side.
I thought I would always have you in my life.
But when things were not right,
When life became hard,
And the night was long, long and dark,
Then you were not there, then
I could not find your hand, and
I could not see or hear you beside me any more.
And when I called to you, in pain
And in fright,
Only my own voice echoed back at me.
The trust I had felt, the sense of belonging
And certainty for the future evaporated.
Perhaps I never met you at all.

© 2ndwitch 27/09/14