I crossed the threshold
To an obvious chamber
Breathing activity.
We were gathered for a celebration
Of a blessing,
Of a friend,
Of a companion on
An assigned journey.
And people buzzed about
While the guest of honor
Lay quietly dignified to the side;
All I could think about
Was how much this room was alive!
There hung a fog
Of a gentle roar
That would wake the dead;
Birthed of sharing the past that brought us here,
Of the proof we have lived and bled.
Quiet tears were shed
Over the fragility of our scene,
A lurking truth pushed down deep inside,
The one we're afraid to face
Yet is impossible to hide.
And the talking never stops,
It can't;
Stops only to start over again,
For if a peace were to clear the air
The understanding of our invitation
Might just settle in... |
Submission Name: W.I.T. - Work In Turmoil
