Passage

My fingers are tied, though I’m not fastening it
by a languour that comes, maybe, from the air
coiled in dim filaments of morning, or from a certain
threaded bundle of myself, in perceived metamorphosis
still absorbed in the numbness of its own cocoon.

Yet I long, I truly long for loosening myself in epilogues
of butterfly, with the fingered lightness of writing
those preludes far too brief, but which are all
that matters to the light.

To fly the core flexible of time in a passage with hues
untied of me, and of the sun.

© 2006 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®

(In a sense, “my fingers have also been tied” by problems with my internet connection… :0) I hope that those are definitely solved now, so that I’ll be able to fly out of this cocoon of isolation from my friends and fellow authors here in AD! To all, my wishes of a weekend truly soaring with all hues of Peace, Love & Light*.)