Sunday, December 12, 2010

Twilight



I am slowly sinking
Into a hole
Whose bottom I cannot see,
And on walls that encircle me
My hands grope for answers.

Soft against the sky,
I see the outlines of a tree,
One familiar to me
In a past life
That was only yesterday.

In the approaching twilight,
My tree inclines its silver branches
Towards my reaching hands.

4 comments:

Denise | Chez Danisse said...

Seems like hope.

Cha sen said...

Hope can come in forms that you do not anticipate, in the most miraculous ways.

Rebekah said...

Up, Down, Reaches, and Light. There's a peace in the sinking of daylight and rise of shadow, and your wonderful tree -- a good moment for people (like me) who feel the dark this time of year. Peace.

Cha sen said...

Thank you, Rebekah.