Of Life And Laughter

March 31, 2017

tho she has not
faded away
thinly
veiled as starlight
in twilight
wandering, a tattered lace filament
a piece of memory

the dust has settled
upon the shawl
that settled
round her, solemn
her tender, haggard countenance
fragile now
and tired

and the summer left
so soonly
so unkindly
as a moonless night
darkly lit by wishes unwished
at the dreaming well
moments beyond reach

golems of touch linger
upon her fair tresses
her fingers
her lips
but no whisper, no breath
but shadow, but autumn leaves
that be, but are not

who has bewitched her
who has stolen
the shimmering quick
what fell thief has borne away
the joy, the water
and left instead mist
and echoes

have we traveled so far
so far to the east
that no garden may find us
again
that summer has gone
and we must be the winter
the winter folk, shivering

shall we wait, bones and rags
lingering in mute trust
for dawn upon the snow
the new blinding light
of a sabbath
that knows not sorrow
is that our lot

if remnant we be
amen, amen
lost in dust and scars
naked, trembling
hoping with breath of rattles
that murmur our libations
our foolish babble

maranatha still
be it yesterday
or yesteryear
maranatha tomorrow
when tomorrow comes
with cries of forgotten dreams
of life and laughter

———————————

THE CROSSING (1997) by Michael Whelan

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One Response to “Of Life And Laughter”


  1. […] ________________________________ I find I posted this prematurely on Paper Screams. […]


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