A Breeze On My Cheek

I felt a breeze on my cheek today,

A scent it carried within,

Of what I know not and nor could I say,

But something hung there on the wind.

 

And softly it spoke to something un-woke,

That lay hid within my mind,

It curled and it wisped like roiling smoke,

That twisted and twirled and entwined.

 

And though I persist in this coiling of mist,

Its meaning lies too deep to find,

But it remains heard like a half whispered word,

Lost in the mist in my mind.

 

Perhaps if I reach out and feel with my hands,

Through the mist that holds it enshrined,

My fingers might brush this ghost in the hush,

And there in the fog we might bind.

 

And then if I hold it, control it, enfold it,

And coax it out into the light,

This thing that blew in like a breeze on my cheek,

Will become a thing clear to my sight.

◄ The Dying Light of The Sun

The Officers Prayer ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message