Free

Falling.

Photo by Filipe Dos Santos Mendes on Unsplash

Free-falling through the atmosphere,
Without a parachute,
Up where the air is clear,
And I am feeling so minute.

Peeling back the pieces,
Each piece reveals some more,
And finally releases,
Things I’ve never seen before.

Places of seclusion,
A secure sanctuary,
Subtle edges of exclusion,
Left fields, then a detour.

Inside the bribe, there’s sanctity,
A place of piety,
And pieces of humanity,
I was sprinkled with anxiety.

A small splinter of sunlight,
Circled the fireside,
The inside of our eyesight,
Places we can’t hide.

I watch you walk into my mind,
And dance in pure delight,
Pieces that we’ve left behind,
Dreams we dreamt at night.

Creases in the corners,
Robes of red and gold,
A funeral with no mourners,
We’re now part of the fold.

You pause with a pen, then intonate,
The music in your mind,
We’ll never say it’s too late,
We’re two of a kind.

©

David Rudder
2024

Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.