Wings
The
wings I found 'neath Autumn tree,
A
set for you and a set for me.
We've
waited all this time to find
Another
soul...a witch to bind.
With
golden threads we stitch and sew
These
props of fancy there to grow.
But
props they are, and props they'll be
Til
you and I can be set free.
We
never needed wings to fly,
Only
ever the will to try.
But
we stitch them on and sew them tight,
Our
spray of feathers, mine black, yours white.
And
like a pair of fearless wraiths,
We
take our final leap of Faith,
To
meet in pure and endless rapture,
A
moment of true bliss to capture.
And
as we feel our threads untie,
With
impending doom we cry.
But
instead the gold entwines
Around
our hearts, both yours and mine.
And
as they start to beat as one
We turn to Dust, our work here done!© Alanda Calmus 2009
