Impetus


We speak but do not punctuate a
silence of all the miles between
and dust gathers on the paths
I’ve left behind.

Once there was a time I knew solace
before the noise
The chaos of hearts which
realised they were awake
to pain.

An enigma is there
to be understood

A puzzle to complete
with nothing at its end
but, the ending.

Glass Angels and brass cats
keep a watchful eye but
offer no vindication
to love bequeathed

and,

with an impetus it doesn’t own
a soul continues its
never-ending spiral of
life unfolding.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo     *All rights Reserved

Shared with 3 Word Wednesday CCLXV11
Poets United, Pantry #75