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Poem: The Mountain kites

"The Mountain Kites"
Steven Benjamin

To the quietude I was led,
To my knees I sank
In the deep I drank
In the grit my nails scratched
A roar from my lungs found escape
in the dark I saw a face,
in their eyes the night sky flickering
Into those pools my gaze did reach
Each crest mine or not to take
To breathe until I break
To wait for my chest to quake
By a figure behind the lace
 and in that dark,
a familiar face
 The twitching of my heart.
Softly the mountain spoke
Quietly dying in my path
Not mine to take
As the peak sank from sight
The trail lost to unknown fate
Forever knocking at my mind
Like a taunting dancing distant kite.
Not mine to hold
Nor to summit
A path held from me
By arcane hands
And a sleight voice whispering
Some paths are not meant to be took
Keep climbing, from your knees
Beholding my familiar face
In our quiet dark home
go where I go
Keep going, till you’re gone


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This post first appeared on Steven Benjamin - Writer - Writing With A Cape, please read the originial post: here

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Poem: The Mountain kites


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