Carved in Gold

It’s not a lost cause, 
I know it’s not.   
These nights spent wrapped in lonely
and these days spent wading through the mire
that some call life.

There’s light
—somewhere—
if I can only find it.

I have to find the tunnel first, of course,
and that might prove to be a task
of grand proportions
in this thickening fog
that hangs around my ears like webs
choking out the sights—
leaving 
the sounds.

But it’s not a lost cause 
for I know there’s stars behind the fog 
and I know life began in someone’s arms,
and there again, 
someday, 
it will end.  

And that’s not a bad thing,
for those arms wrap warmly in the night
no matter how the wind might blow;
they take me forward
to my birthplace
that I know,
for in the sanctity of evermore
all the days
and all the nights
are carved 
in gold


november 2006
©Janet Reid






Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ Nov 12, 2006