Burn

 I once lost my final sliver of hope in the corner of  the street where I used to meet him after the winter rains.

It happened all at once.

Like eating honey out of a broken glass jar-
the sweetness and copper dab of blood blending into an unimaginable nectar that lingered for an eon on my darkened tongue...

I kept my head firmly under the waves-
waiting for the final breath to pass-
dreaming of  shattered rainbows bursting in colour under my tired eyelids
but my body was not willing to give up.

And I am grateful.

For now I am enmeshed in lives and loves and goodness
and my dying breath now flames again
and scalds me with its willingness to live and love and hope .

The December skies open up-
 The rain falls in torrents from the moonlight.
And I burn my heart again on the dying embers of an ancient passion.