Photo by Cole Farlow on Unsplash
Whispered to me has this fell secret been:
That dreams of youth have not yet been in vain.
For still there is a beauty not yet seen,
for which this heart may yet still beat again.
These charcoal skies; they shade these ancient trees.
This forest path I feel the urge to tread.
As spring begins, I crave the fallen leaves;
and long to flee this shining sun I dread.
Still shadows dance along my cavern walls;
these shadows of a fair and holy form.
They greet me as night, dark and lonely, falls –
they urge me on until the day is born.
And if the sun has done one deed for me,
it is these shadows it has cast of thee.
About the Creator
D.C. Yost
Graduate Student in Theology. Writing about gods, love, death, and beauty.
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