The Light House


The clock strikes
The lighthouse lamp fell silent
and now the sun lights
a day that could surpass all nights

A deep breath,
as the chest begged to be opened
and her wish fell
like the star
that landed in her lap
and danced in her eye

The ultimate formation
in honour of reciprocation
or a conspiracy well hidden?
A sum once parted,
and living in the contingency
of the penny and its drop

In the shadows
in the sacred space
A child is waiting
Wanting to be born
but fatherless still
His whispers go unanswered

A house of one home
but only where the moon cries
Little by little the heart dies
Always somewhere gone, far and near
and living in a purgatory
within all realms and without reason

The stages of grief
unfold in a mechanism
of quench and elude
Damage to no consequence, never so
for love is unconditional, ever so
Twin flames in their eternal karmic show

Peaks of two triangles
Fence her in the centre of the star
Where the light hides, now halfway post meridian
Still no culmination in sight
The path, as her dream, leads back to night
Her predecessors hold her hand and know

Sliced by the axis of nodes, true or mean
Northbound lies a Libran destiny
The Gods of the eras were in favour
of the reunion of their souls
But the crossroads loom so perilous
she risks to drown again by the seaside

Many miles diverted
Within hopelessness still alerted
An ocean black and deserted
Harbour blocked by chaos and disorder
Inside a tomb she dwells, a lonely prisoner
muted, still wearing her invisibility cloak

Who is she? A forgotten mystery
In a very unusual way
she holds the cards, rings the Belle
but stays the dream in which she walks
No solace, never respite – she sighs
The onset of another night

Times of the end being nigh
Over, and…over
Not the love of the life
of the love of her life
A truth promising the return of dark
Heart devoid of time, space, spark

Angel hour, but not one to one,
and twilight on this summer night
has faded under a bloodred sky
Aurora bids her pole goodbye
Riddles linger on in the starry dark
Can the Universe lie?

The spell has been broken
and the ghouls now run free
Cinderella retrieves her ashes
Glass shattered on her bleeding feet
She knows as the embers glow
Some things cannot be lost, nor solved

The clock strikes
Time ouroborically bites
The writer writes
from her ante meridian rites:

So she looked out over the sea.’

On the shore of her darkest night
the lighthouse calls forth its light
Illuminates the indivisible truth
Forever obscured but unable to hide

What dies
is only the dark
that keeps us
from being born again
into the light

©2014, Myriam Heffels

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