Thursday, 22 July 2010

Why Do I Dream ...?

A door creaks open almost nightly
And they are all there
The ones I shunned, fled from
Faces titled towards me in expectation
Eyes brimming with questions
They reach out to touch me as I walk through the room
To the outer wall
It is left for me only to turn
But in turning my back will be against the cold, cold stone
'Face them, daughter, face them ...'
In the semi-dark I hear a whisper under the membrane of my skin
'Lift up your eyes, greet them, invite each one in ...'

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