Meadow Myth

So many keys you possess,
having collected them along the way,
sand-fossils upon lonely shores,
earth-buried near silent graves,

all shapes and sizes,
from all times and places,
dating back centuries,
no ties to faces.

From a misty meadow,
skin-kissed with dew,
I emerge and
wordlessly stand
before you.

I have waited
all these lifetimes
for my key-holder
to unlock me to find

my deeper, my deepest,
potential beauty.
You raise your
worn pouch of keys;

my cloak slips
revealing non-flesh,
just my soul
preparing to
receive the gifts,

and from my light
are launched a thousand
butterfly-like fairies
that swirl around
until the white blinds
and unburies

my greatest potential,
and as the blaze subsides,
I am left with a glow
radiating from the inside,

and all of your keys
have metamorphosed
into one skeleton,
ancient and ornate, gold,

and with a knowing
in my eyes of green seas,
I reach for your heart
and let the key release

all of the beauty
and hope and dreams
you have for so long
held onto with
battered-knuckled belief,

the non-spell, broken,
for we only needed
to find each other again,
having once protected

our love by
locking it
and entrusting
you with

the task of finding
each last key
that would bring you
back to me,

and now, my love,
we are again free
to continue to love
each other eternally.

Come, fly away
with me.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

2 thoughts on “Meadow Myth

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