I flew up high and far and fast,
Played with goddesses and gods,
Swinging, looping, free and fair,
Breathing in celestial air.
I swooped down low to touch the earth
And feel the growth that man pretends,
But as I passed my trail was snagged
With ragged thoughts all wrapped and bagged.
Once ensnared and sinking fast
My speed and growth could not pull past,
And so I sank where few would tread,
Listening to the living dead.
Deep within my very heart,
I cried the cry of souls who lost,
From far above, they came for me,
With thoughts and wings to set me free,
Yet still I gripped my new found dread,
Hanging on tight to what was dead,
Their thoughts and wings could hold no more,
So down I plunged, soul charred and sore.
I breathed in the mighty roar
Of souls with suffering at their core,
I wondered on in depths unseen,
Felt the cry that torment brings.
Smaller still, my soul grew quiet,
Waiting for its time to riot,
When, in due course, it took me back,
And silence reigned where once I was.
© Copyright Robin McShane – January 2001
Rights reserved as per this blogs copyright