Well Met, my Love

Deep shadows in the canyon,
unmoved by howling gale,
lie hollow, hiding empty, sadder thoughts.
Could all the passion of this wilderness
move my soul to light? Self doubt,
will ever seek the void.

A mountain crag, my vantage,
speaks a watching eagle,
with eyes to pierce the heart that, silent, waits.
No storm too violent for such wings of strength;
no night to dark for vision
to see hidden shadows.

Within the tree lined valley,
pale and frightened, standing,
to steadfastly repay the raptor’s gaze.
Eyes that glinted, empty, in the ice lands,
with softer fire, ignited,
will catch a nervous heart.

Swift to comfort, on cold wind,
I fly to meet this plea;
to shield from glaring sunlight pure hope’s form.
Run with me on the air; I will shelter,
these coal-black, glowing embers
of soul's rekindled fire.

© Simon J Ashcroft, 2024

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