Never Again

Never Again

Grief hangs over like shadows pass, times memory,
Is it memories, or the passing Grey shadows I find so haunting?
I lie in fields waiting to be sorted out with my like, the chaff,
Let the threshing come, perhaps they may find something useful in me yet.
Straw cut up for the fodder, I feel a wretched thing, worthless and brittle bract,
A mere shell were a flower once bloomed, laid down in a bed of grasses,
I am the husk of something once beautiful, something once not empty, but yet, once full of life.

I waited for you, you said you’d never leave.
I knew with the last touch, and with letting you go
You were not coming back.
You said you would be with me always.
Perhaps in spirit, and this was what was meant,
But now I’m lost in a field, be it wheat, rye, or barley,
That waves like water, when the wind breaths,
It is an illusion, love, it’s not water, but earth that holds me.
There is no pathway to help me along,

As far as eyes can see,
It stretches out before me endless like seas.
Suns rise, suns set, and I stay waiting and wondering,
Perhaps I shall begin to wander,
Wondering would leave me only were I began.
Direction is endless, I turn in circles, my love.
Stop! Setting footsteps, one before another.
Can you think of a better way?
Nothing in me says what is right.
Everything in me says what is wrong.
Not one whisper of a word to guide me.

I will walk these fields for all my days,
Water, wind, and earth, sun and warmth,
All that I need, and all I’ve ever wanted.
I find forceful footstep find direction,
And there, well enough, contentment and peace.
Love is something that will never die,
But life is something that must be lived.
Knowing to never see you again,
Wondering that wandering,
Should really be the right direction for us both.

Never to meet again. I would have it so.

A journey over, shadows pass, times memory,
Is it memories, or the passing Grey shadows I find so much pity in?
I lie in fields waiting to be sorted out with my like, the chaff,
Let the threshing come, I find something useful in me yet.
Straw cut up for the fodder, I feel transformed, renewed, a new spring bud, petals emerge,
A flower, lay me down in a bed of grasses, bloomed,
I am the whole of something so beautiful, something once empty, but yet, now so full of life.