Back then, when poetry was young,
and fresh born souls struggling to speak,
yet fearfully aware that someone,
sifting through the words,
might come upon the meaning,
we hid in convoluted courses,
verses swallowing their tails,
constructions masked and leaping,
by logic abandoned, unmapped
and hedged about with stealth,
our sure defences to the prying eye.
So we held to fragile confidence
that these, our deepest intimations,
might lie secure forever.
And now, when being known
is all that draws us on towards the light,
we yearn for ways to speak the inexpressible,
to say at last what we always meant,
display with a shrug those hidden things
from darkness dragged unbidden,
a great unburdening of weight,
still dusty with the arc of years.
Let your song rain upon the ear of God
in death.
Line count: 24
Free verse
For Shadows and Light Poetry Contest, Round 109
No prompt.
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