20. Apr, 2019

Spring Triduum, Two.

Another stole the dream

we dreamt in the meadows of love;

we were bold, we were wild

till we lingered on.

In the meadow, we lay on the grass

we whispered tender words of devotion,

we imagined our embrace out of linear time,

we carved out our spiral of belonging,

we entwined our limbs and our hearts

till the slanting sun went down

on the graveyard: we walked in silence 

to the hilltop, the city of grey

and red bricks sprawled below. 

Dark clouds projected their shadows

on the places of the living and of the dead.

Love and death walked hand in hand.