Ancient steps, aging breath, <br />Dark, stained glass <br />Entwined in bronze... <br />No shine, spark. <br /> <br />Should I change the laws of life? <br />Should I pull aside the Veil? <br />I can hold the roses of Heaven. <br />I can hold the Hell of thorns. <br /> <br />Places in Time, names forgotten. <br />Inner lights of buttercups... <br />Not picked, vased, or mantled. <br />Seeds. <br /> <br />When did I swim in primordial waters? <br />When did I crawl out to breathe? <br />Where were my families to greet me? <br />Where were the footprints to follow? <br /> <br />Never-time. Warm, candled cabin. <br />Snow-covered valleys to sleep in. <br />Cuddled, <br />Fading upward. <br /> <br />I can arrange the rules of Days. <br />I can mold the Crescent Light. <br />Never will the roses curl, brown... <br />Never will the thorns dull.<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/almost-sisters-why-leave-the-earth/
