…are better left unanswered
This place you saw once before in a dream
a place where the silence restores the mind
a symphony of quietude
billowing with white light movements
how they glide softly without a sound
lighter than clouds uncoiling on a kind breeze
before they fall slowly, so slowly
rippling streams, crystal clear
clearer than the translucent sky
winding, wandering
a walk on a shimmering morning
a world of frost, of ice, of snow
of sheaves of glass and endless mirrors
an illusory place beyond your reach
but you as you watch
the pictures of your dream shatter
are consumed
as the world sheds its winter sleep
and only the pale, frosty moon prevails
were they ever real?
or only shadows?
like the silent introspection
that holds you through the night
some questions are better left unanswered
just dreams that decorate slumber
diamonds scattered all around
revealed by the vanishing snow
© Ann Bagnall 2014
