Death, Uploading, Memory and, well, 'things'.

From: Sarah Marr (sarah.marr@dial.pipex.com)
Date: Sat Nov 16 1996 - 15:21:28 MST


            Morning Light

Morning light, my morning light,
  Slips slow over my love,
And clothes her in gossamer.

          And turning now, she whispers,
            Words of my creation,
          But still I cannot hear them.

In her rebirth I saw hope,
  I saw her phoenix rise,
Felt her sun-warm fire once more.

          And sighing now, she slumbers,
            Through dreams of my doing,
          But still I cannot shape them.

In her rebirth I found warmth,
  I found her company,
Reclaimed what Death had taken.

          And dreaming now, she wonders,
            "Why does she love me so?"
          But still I cannot tell her.

In her rebirth I found pain,
  I found her memory,
Saw lost truth behind old lies.

          And worried now, she questions,
            "Where is the past I had?"
          But still I cannot answer.

In her rebirth I found grief,
  I found her destiny,
Believed in her wish to leave.

          And stirring now, she forgets.
            "I am with my true love."
          But still I cannot hold her.

In her rebirth I found light,
  Yet lost it in darkness,
That drowned her within my soul.

          And waking now, she rises,
            And letting go my dream,
          I watch as she slowly fades.

Morning light, my morning light,
  Slips slow over my mind;
Clothes my loss in memory.

                                 Sarah Marr

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Sarah Kathryn Marr
 sarah.marr@dial.pipex.com http://dialspace.dial.pipex.com/sarah.marr/
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------



This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.5 : Fri Nov 01 2002 - 14:35:50 MST