Always Alone

I first awoke in an empty room,
tall ceilinged, still and silent,
blinded by colours, not of this spectrum.
I was alone.

I once gazed cautiously into
life's widening aperture,
tempted by beguiling faces,
offering clues to my existence.

I searched wide for missing words,
in forgotten books, dusty and neglected,
was faith ever melancholy
in it's cinch upon the poor?

I wandered aimlessly into
that field of dreams,
where the lonely abandoned abbey was,
but a distant fading shadow.

My ears vibrated to the whisper of truth,
casting me deaf to life's distractions,
voices, singing, talking, laughing,
in tongues of yore.

In the overgrown garden of enquiring minds,
that I once had tended,
with love and affection.
Again, I was alone.



Capability Red May 2011