From a distance,
the roar of the orchid is loud.
I churn in my sleep, drums echoing in my heart.
I roll in lush, green meadows,
laughing in the arms of my lover;
A scream awakens me -
it is my own voice, crying out in the night -
tears streak down my face as the moon hovers over the desert.
I ache with the utter lack of your voice,
though its echo remains rhythmic in my bones -
sorrow wrings my heart without easing a breath;
I cannot speak - I can only sigh.
Everyone tells me you're gone, never to return;
I know the truth of it too well -
yet, your reflection, sacred to my soul,
still slow dances in my eyes.
Perhaps these throes of agony I feel
are from the finality of letting you go.
Perhaps music will sing in my veins once more -
until then, I mourn your symphony
of beauty and grace.
We wail upon our arrival,
imminently fearful of what lies before us,
unknowing in our innocence, torn from our roots
and set adrift on a fathomless tide of discovery, seeking perfection.
We follow a trail of mysterious breadcrumbs,
puzzled by their appearance -
we leave the path and stumble upon the shoals.
We flutter our wingless dreams,
praying for wind and hoping for flight
before oblivion claims our destiny.
We walk before we crawl and snarl before we weep,
expecting infinity to hold still in its progression
beyond the jagged edges of the grave.
Bronze trophy winner
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