lightningale

If ever you sang,
Your song must be my resurrection
That streak of light scarring
the darkness of my soul for a moment;
That distant hum in the horizon breaking
the quiet,
the years when I was dead.

If ever you flew over,
Your wake must be this secret storm
These waves of oceans raging
inside my turbulent soul wanting more;
This hollow feeling of my spirit
driving me after you,
chasing traces of your song in the night sky.

2003.mar.11