(no subject)
THE SILVER CORD
A silver cord around her throat
Was all the weight she wore
With a silver star hung from it
For the burden that she bore
In the uncertain strands of time
That twist each and every way;
The sun would rise each morning,
The sun would set each day;
But heavier and heavier,
That burden that she bore
Through dusty books and random musings,
Through hard-won secret lore;
From secret piled on secret
Until they, from all the weight,
Distorted space around them
And twisted time and fate.
Lines were etched into her face,
Her hair was stained with snow
And when she reached the journey’s end,
Whither did she go?
Unto the vision of despair,
Or green fields in the sun?
Or unto those who went before
Or to where she had begun
The answer only she can know,
Who wears the silver cord,
And those that walk behind her,
And those that went before.
~~<~<~{@
Eric Atkinson, 25 April 2007
A silver cord around her throat
Was all the weight she wore
With a silver star hung from it
For the burden that she bore
In the uncertain strands of time
That twist each and every way;
The sun would rise each morning,
The sun would set each day;
But heavier and heavier,
That burden that she bore
Through dusty books and random musings,
Through hard-won secret lore;
From secret piled on secret
Until they, from all the weight,
Distorted space around them
And twisted time and fate.
Lines were etched into her face,
Her hair was stained with snow
And when she reached the journey’s end,
Whither did she go?
Unto the vision of despair,
Or green fields in the sun?
Or unto those who went before
Or to where she had begun
The answer only she can know,
Who wears the silver cord,
And those that walk behind her,
And those that went before.
~~<~<~{@
Eric Atkinson, 25 April 2007