songs i could not sing

i am a soul trapped in a body,

i am complete as i am unfinished,

and even though i've tried to catch myself,

i slip through my hands like the water in my veins;

 

but when i glance into a mirror,

eyes searching for those also mine,

she comes out from behind my thoughts,

like the moon smiling from beneath her veil of clouds;

 

and she is the bronze chill of the summer air,

the longing i feel to be completely whole--

she teases me with a flash of white,

a promise of secrets to be whispered to the wind;

 

she is large and yet so very tiny,

she is warm but yet there is cold,

she is smoke and wine and mire,

and she dances, much like the stars;

 

in that glance i catch my soul,

even if just for a moment--

i know that i am not made entirely of stone,

but one injected full of living, breathing fire;

 

i've tried to catch her for myself,

to put her flutter in a tiny glass jar,

but every time she slips away,

somewhere far, back behind the glass on the mirror;

 

i know she is somewhere,

somewhere other than my eyes--

she is hiding and she is taunting,

for what reason, i can't imagine why;

 

and so i've tried to seek her elsewhere,

in the earth, the air, and the sea--

she seems to be like lightning,

fleeting, luminous, and brilliant at hiding;

 

as time passes i grow more weary,

i try to cajole her into coming to me,

but she remains just out of my grasp,

and she doesn't even tease me anymore;

 

she is everything i should be,

but nothing like i am--

i am lost in a world of steel and grey,

there's no fire here, no where for her to be;

 

but there is one thing i know,

one thing i've come to understand:

as i fade from the earth, she will too,

as i burn into ash, she will evaporate with me;

 

my voice is cracking from crying her name,

the skin of my soul is stained with the songs i could not sing,

my eyes don't see the colors in their full clarity,

and her heart is slowing...slowing...slowing...

 

i am clay and she is fire;

she is smoke and i am bone;

i may not find her in this world,

but when my eyes close at last,

she will whisper, before she leaves,

a gentle, loving, bashful goodnight.

Author's Note

yawn