Sweetness Of The Decent Night (rev)

 

They talked to me again today,
they spoke in gentle tones and
said the things I ought to hear
then lead me where the frangipani
grew; the heady scent they said
was meant to soothe the wicked
wounds I wore, to ease the twisted
scars that tore my inner peace.

The power was overwhelming and
I soared in weightless flight, I spun
amongst the blooms, I wheeled and
turned with agile ease on pungent
breezes thicker than the blood that
thundered in my veins; would that I
remained amid the scented blooms,
to loft beside the waxen leaves
in pretty flight.

Today I walk between the dead and
those who never lived, uncertain in
my stride – waiting who decides my
daily fate. The smile that tilts my lips
is rooted deep in soaring flight and
awesome scented blooms in
sweetness of the decent night.
© I.D.Carswell