NT ( / Ireland)

A Terrible Love

Restless I wander down to the sea
as threatening Judas clouds hover big and black
sirens in the whistling wind
omens in the trees.
I am no seer,
yet everywhere hearing illusions, signs,
nearing thirty-three,
Is this my Gethsemane?

Wishing I were back in the womb
or in our room
eternally locked
making my retreat
kissing your feet.
through time and eternity
no love could resemble
I will go to the temple
kneel, bow
silently adore
man or god
indivisible.

User Rating: 3,9 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

Felt the turmoil of pain and pending loss in your poem Norah. A beautiful write...10+