Collision

The drawbridge ascends for me

in panic.

The grip is lost again,

pried off by doubt,

and the cruelty of the clock.

 

And the wind moves faster here.

 

Clouds forced to smudge

Wisps scorched away

My spite knows not

The limits of compassion.

 

And still the wind moves.

 

Strength now better defined

As how my body holds up against frailty

A frailty she is not aware of, but controls.

Away from her I climb.

 

 

And she moves the wind.

 

Now for the solemn descent,

an exhalation in the rhythms of time.

Distance in front of the eyes

Holds the chaos still.

 

And she moves the wind.

 

The calm of blue mountain haze,

and the void of the sky’s clear truth.

Wet dirt and new grass

fingers plunged into earthen lush.

 

As she breathes the sails billow again.

 

The drawbridge shudders not

at the collision

but in the persistence of

her gale.