art: ifeng.com
Each dawn brings
Sunday’s lament
for ancient times.
Released on twilight’s limbs,
it crawls slowly
through arched skies –
wafting the darkness –
until it settles to meet
my ankles.
Luckily, songbirds
hidden by the morning mist
accompany me
on my journey,
always before sadness
beclouds my intent.
Ahead of me on this long,
long road, hope waits
with its strange arms
open wide, outstretched,
and ready to cradle me,
to make me replete.
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by *paige six
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Really enjoyed the personification of emotion and hope, described very vividly.
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Thanks Lion. I am influenced by Japanese and ancient Chinese poetry. I feel cheeky trying to capture the ‘voice’ of old master, but that was what got me hooked. But I will try.
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