To every moment your breath begins;
the failing daylights last disgrace
upon opening, finds your needle spins
Your everlasting, rich embrace;
finds, after long years,
your love alone, an empty space
Spinning wildly over woven tears;
your own imagined empty sky
to nettle against your fingers fears,
And casts your sinking sun to cry
your waters openly before your sleep
endures, and spreads what wings will fly
Over the highest mountains steep
incline, over ice and stone,
over love and hate and rivers running deep;
Rivers running over blood and bone
hold, beside your dreams escape,
your smallest hour, your softest moan
That, in you, grows; of color form and shape,
becoming more and more and more,
until, in your final moments lurid drape,
Your heart escapes to that far off, golden shore;
the golden horns sound silently;
© S.E.S
Sara Stowell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/golden-shores/
