ashes

at winter's edge you found me

huddled, afraid and alone

while all around the fields burned

from all the wheat I'd sown

my hands stretched over ashes

where once a fire raged

staring past your shadow

while I was disengaged

you lifted me from carnage

from what once was my past

wrapped me in your jacket

and said "stop looking back"

leave those days behind you

let me show you what's ahead

there in your hand you showed me

a golden, twisted thread

"each twist is a way forward

though intricate it may look

the essence of its very strength

is written about in books"

he said, "the blossoms will return

and winter will pass to spring

take my hand I'll show you

what all of this could mean"

as a bell tolled out the hour

as the sun rose in the west

the tide of indifference ebbing

as my spirit finally rests

Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License