The Yearning
Arising from archaic caverns,
The path is hidden in dark
recesses of memory,
yet the yearning persists.
an ember in the ashes.
a match strikes flint.
Flame flares through dissolving night.
Moth forever draws towards fire,
a winged being of purest instinct,
yearning for Spirit..
if only to disintegrate in a white-orange flash of brilliance,
a puff of grey smoke and then, nothing...extinguished.
Yet flame still lives in a smoldering hearth of hope.
rekindled again..and again..
So, the path unwinds moving ever inward, downward.
Soul..remembers the way Home.
~ Eva Rider
previously published in Psyche's Journey
Replies
Lovely. Thank-you for sharing Eva.
Lovely. A timeless and heart opening poem!
Thank you Amy. It was one of my very early ones. Thank you for the kindness.
I am struck by how the sense of loss and longing can still result in such incredibly beautiful images, Eva. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Bonnie.