As the Tide Turns

Is the wind blowing over the house eaves
again tonight as if flipping over the pages
of whispered history in our beginnings
trying to make up happy endings

does it touch your heart that once
pined for the answering beat from mine
but where are you  now o’ beloved
that breathed hope and life into my soul  

where are you… will you hold the torch
and light my path on my last journey
or have you thrown down the light
and held up the candle for another

my sight grows dim, hope dimmer still
my fingers are no longer supple
they trace the patterns of my wrinkles
like wizened vultures claws

I await the final boom of the gong
announcing the arrival of the traveller
weary in his travels yet forever reaping
what has been sown by the master

hark, the wind blows cold…