Fantasy

I waste my breath

in unrequited sighs

that have steeped for decades

in empty cups of longing.

Has this world forgotten

that it was rooted in myth?

I kiss the dawns on vacant shores

toes caressed by saline lochs

that come and go as they please.

How like the waves of men they are,

crashing in, promising to seep through,

leaving behind foam.

Where are the depths they foretold,

in ancient songs and tales,

rooted in truth?

How can one create stars

if they never held stardust?

My arms outstretch in winds

that whisper

"there is still time"

but what faith remains

when shallow tide pools

are all that remain?

Participant's Poems