The Secret
I tire holding my unsettled life
up to the wind to scent its course
(how did I manage)
Unsettled soul
(alone)
I trod darkened seas of foam and spray
which hurl their rapacious faces upon me.
(cold)
I cannot hold,
nor seek
nor support
this so-called life
of tremulous tears
nor touch this face,
this forehead to yours
knowing that within
lies the secret
untold-
Listen closely
as I loosen it upon the wind
and in so doing
free myself to face the sun.
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012