Enslavement of Baggage

To avoid awakening

is to remain imprisoned

knowing well that

even as winter ends,
cold persists.

Morning light
endures shadows of the past.

Everywhere
good wishes collapse mute.

Bouquet openings
become but empty vases.

Hesitant touches
forever pretend.

Intimate whispers diminish to
but a resonance of silence.

The taste of alum tinctures
become forever's aftertaste.

Time seems to stop
 as dreams of future
become nightmares of past.

When regret finds no escape,
and shackles of blame
hold firm inside walls of guilt,
clouds remain forever without rain,
and stubborn baggage remains

your yesterday,

every day.

To awaken is to know…

The simple music
of children's laughter,

like the comforting essence
of rose petals beneath one's touch,
evaporates captivity into mere folly.