Grateful

Like a bird I crouch,
Perched on the highest window sill,
Afraid to fly, afraid of up and down
Afraid of my reflection in the glass.

Curled up I lie, the bed a heaving ocean,
Frothing from a thousand mouths.
Your touch is cool amidst the boiling sea,
Your hand my link to every-day.

A foggy dream, and in the damp around me
I drift, bereft of all direction,
And run aground and founder
On my journey home.

Your steady breath chastens the tempest
And like a strong current
Speeds my ship onwards,
With the clouds gone and the fog lifted.

Then I dare to raise my head again,
And look into your calm blue eye
And find my place,
And know myself again.

© jsmorgane (March 2011)

Bookmark the permalink.

0 Comments

  1. Love the way you bring the poem together at the end.

Leave a Reply

Your e-mail address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*