imbalanced on the wall of reality
crumbling softly to ash
these grey flecks of dust, earth
I call myself
trying to breathe on a night
of in between
on a bridge of unknown dreams
I create a space
for eloquence;
I await the new moon
but the old one lingers yet
birds of dawn have come
and gone, and
here they come again
death and birth of night and day
Peace, I long to be still
but my heart beat
marks tomorrow's path
and my feet
have miles within.
- Shaista
a poem for Magpie Tales
Dawn is waiting at the hospice for her journey into the unknown. She quoted lines from Romeo and Juliet the other night just before I left, 'Good night, good night, As sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart, As that within my breast.' I hope I can quote poetry on my last nights on earth. I was moaning to her about the lack of birds in our garden; birds have always flocked to Dawn's garden, much like they did with St Francis of Assisi.
Dawn said, "There'll be lots of birds in your garden now. I'll make sure of it." "Promise?" I asked. "You bet," she said.
