Tuesday, December 3, 2013

December 1st, Early Morning.

Beckoning like star in clearest obsidian sphere,
Glinting as daydream of unearthed treasures-
The pure frost,
How it entices a hungry gaze of longing
For more.
How it bears the beauty of detail
Mixed with the pain of biting chill.
I see from my window;
It calls out to me, begging a wondering touch.
But I am betrayed by the merciless cold
And retreat to pine its radiance from afar.
One day, I tell myself
One day I will be groomed to embrace the hurt
That I might partake of the mystery
Of promised joy.
I wait in breathless hoping
For that revelatory dawn.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.