Life! A Lover!

“Is it time?”
                   she gasped,
afraid.

Just who might answer?
and What might she hear?

but Nothing.

Nothing shouted back
or even whispered, wept, or wailed.
But in that lack was found her soul’s exhale.
The culprit found
Known by its clothed black ‘round.
She sought its proper form.
The black withstanding all but
That gold band.

Life!  A Lover!

or so her culture cried:
once jovial and light,
the world,
now burdened by this self-inflicted plight.

The naked sang with shame.
It quivered in the frigid light.
Now clothed in heavy Somethings
As Love and Life release in flight.