A bell chimes. A glass breaks. A flower dies. A lightning bolt strikes
Wooded area that
surrounds is full of sounds; chirping, slithering, rustling, growling
Restless, deep within
the forest of trees; deep within logs of decay
Deep within the
novelty of life’s breathless air
Movement curbs the
silence
This movement wakens
each step, yet cajoles these limbs, shakes these nerves to act
Where, where to take
that step
Into a night filled
with secrets, or out into the light of dense fog
Footfalls of
progressive energy
Footfalls of strength
that lacks luster of sunlight
Away, into the ocean
Away, into the dark
waters of salt and foam
Away, into tastes of
salt upon lips, skin, eyes that seep the same salty tears
Away, stepping into
the sand
Testing, no not
testing, because one knows where it leads
Beckoning, yes, beckoning
forward to drift
Moonlight drifts
across water
Waiting water touched with blue, cold, light
to sleep, yes, that
chance
sleep will come
