Abandoned Tome
Upon Shanks’ Nag
Here I am upon shanks’ nag… forlorn
Covered by the chill blank darkness of the night
I am feeling old
Not solely in body… but in spirit
With every solitary step
My years sadly displayed through the windows of my soul
I feel hollow… not empty and void
Like the cold vacuum of space
But instead like a room forsaken
Sealed off by the homes possessor
For fear of fealing too much
Sealed off indeed
As the dust of unexplored ages settles upon a book
The very story of my existence
In this once treasured room
Such joy it was in the beginning
In anticipation the readers heart
Soared with each new scene
Yet now it sits idly by… long forgotten… unread
This abandoned tome
Whose pages long to be turned
They say there is a time and a season for everything
As my time slips away…
I am left with an aching in my bones and in my heart
This ancient relic sustained by memories of long ago
When the clouds overhead seemed not like mountains
But more like stairs leading to heaven…
note: Fealing is not misspelled. I use it to convey not only emotion but also the archaic form of the word which means faith and fidelity. It is also a form of cryptography of hiding things in words.
This is a poetic trait I picked up from St. John of the Cross.
I also wanted to continue the theme of mountains appearing as obstacles or immovable objects of uncertainty... as well as introducing Jacob's Stone/Pillow/Ladder at the end...
Who doesn't like Stairway to Heaven :) The word is LOVE
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