I wrote this on New Year’s Eve. It’s deliberately allusive, rather than pointed. I hope you like it! 🙂
The Archer’s Kiss
I’m past the drama of the firefight.
I ponder moonlight and the sullied, greyish snow.
My fearful thoughts, like flunkies, careen from left to right;
Some keep their peace, and some will see the light.
No matter where I turn, my fury starts to grow.
Even in my rage and reticence, I dream,
And all my dreams involve a sort of fear;
I mop and vacuum till the floors all gleam,
And mount the chin-up bar to let off steam,
But everything is slowly coming clear.
What is my fear? I fear the quiet most of all,
The silence that still echoes through each room.
Each book and picture from before the fall
Speaks to the whisper’s dreadful, aching, thoughtless pall;
These memories fill me with sorrow, angst, and gloom.
I hear unspoken words, and mouth unanswered prayers,
Still sitting at the table in my grief.
Each spotless dish reflects a world of cares.
Each sitcom’s a reminder. No one shares
My pain. The world can give us no relief.
And yet, I cry in pain, and you still hear my cries.
You take my calls; you fill my life with song.
You help me dry my failing, tear-filled eyes,
And offer me both wonder and surprise.
You help me to redress the ancient wrong.
What can I do, and who should I now be,
To quell my aging fear, and glimpse again the bliss
That filled me with June’s sunlight, pure and free?
The moonlight, and my memories, sing to me,
And offer me Apollo’s lingering kiss.
His soft quicksilver lips fill me with light,
And clear the clouds of doubt and rage away.
His kisses warm me on this winter night,
And help me know my suffering aright…
And thus, December is a summer’s day.
The archer’s kiss fills me with soft, poetic peace,
Surrounding me, just like December snow.
My thoughts of grief and sorrow crowd, then cease,
As wine and music give my seraph soul release.
Now I’m unsure, but someday soon I’ll know.