Rewind

Just yesterday the build and crash,
The heavy pound of heart and glass,
Emerged as one:
The sea's blood beat with mine.

This sea was dark; it swirled, and spun;
But I was safe and small and one
Lost in escape
From slower swirl of ash.

Restless was the current's touch;
Expectant were the silent eyes
That trusted the horizon. 

The thirsty pack flicked not an ear
As snow drifts fell down soft and weary
Till- without a word they slunk
Away to answer to some newer, silver pattern. 

They left those shadows there to wait
Until they too were covered through
With ash and taken under. 

The sky watched coldly: distant, white-
Reminding me, of, colder still,
A campfire on an empty hill;
It comes to me in dreams. 

A stack of coals betrayed by heat
Bitterly recalls the laughter sweetly
Shared by strangers round that ring-
But dawn brought snowy ash.

I am that stranger, but a guest;
I am that fire: abandoned ash;
That end bears in until it is
The only dream locked safe in heart
And clasped between my hands. 

That faithful circle’s burning on
Was my great hope-
My greatest fear-
An even bigger chance.

So spin gold minutes, so they toll;
Yet dolefully promise of the close
When my cold sea engulfs the sun.
Let rapture beat the heart of glass
And one last time emerge as one. 

Already my hand cannot reach
The colour draining from the sky;
Too soon the dreary time arrives:
A dead, long-known, restrained goodbye

And all the rest of my small life,
Until I become one again,
I stare at windows and rewind,
Remembering long the free.

Ash in my mind, I marched away;
The sea eyed at my sodden step,
Thus watched until I too must fade
Beyond these entrance sands.

Already yesterday becomes
One less escape to draw hope from;
These dreams will never be enough:
That end comes true, like every night,
The darkness breathes for every gasp of light.

The week spins on
The ash runs deep
But I am lost in unspun sleep
Of yesterday before this fire was borne away. 

 Isaiah 61
. . . the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
   and provide for those who grieve in Zion-
   to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.