We were eagles once, soaring, careless, through <br />a lightning storm- possibility hooked, undeniably, <br />in our talons. We risked the horizon, <br />intimidated not by its endlessness but by what <br />might come before. We were a secret waiting <br />to be told, a moment too ripe and needing to explode <br />beyond its own selfish being. The sky was ours, then, <br />if the sky was anything at all. <br /> <br />Definition awaited our deciphering; disappointed, <br />amid the thunder, when we all but abandoned it. <br />Without the bother of words, the falling began <br />in the long dark of an otherwise indistinguishable night. <br />Feathers and fervency, disappeared with each sunset <br />until you, wind whipped, and I, exhausted, could <br />no longer soar so much as glide into the plausibility <br />of a painfully inevitable conclusion. <br /> <br />Time careens forward still, on course to impale itself; <br />an unspoken truth set to reveal its horrid reality. <br />There will be bits of memories, but only bits – <br />mere whispers of the crack and rumble of before. <br />Shadows will cry from the far end of the sky <br />to claim us, until what once was <br />is no more. We’ll slide, presumably, headlong <br />into a past only too eager to receive us – <br /> <br />five days numb, and blind.<br /><br />Christine Austin Cole<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/five-days-flight-into-oblivion/
