A secret place

"It is such a secret place, the land of tears."
~~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

liberation seems so close
the last wall of fear
beginning to crumble
the ego scrambling
to rebuild
repairing the chinks
as the crisis nears

on the clearest morning
the sky suddenly curdled
and dumped its yield
upon asphalt ribbons
stretched between places through places
arteries pumping
from the hub

it is almost the same
as every other time
I watch the clouds
move toward the east
anticipating a new storm
from the west

the same glowing threads of glass
finer than angora
convey dreams
into the heart’s revolutions
proclaiming the day of judgement

I am the frit
waiting for the fire
that transmutes
glittering fragments
into a radiant orb
the billows huff
and I am gathered
onto the molten glob

© 2001 Melissa Songer