The Promise of a Sun
She stood silently by the windowsill
Beneath the sky azure, clear and lavish
Her eyes caressing the lands beyond
Eyes, hollow like a reed, with anguish
Her gaze sated with careless thoughts her mind beheld
Communing with the horizon in an intimate language
That seemed holding tiny fragments of hope
The land beyond the window bore no trees.
Baked by a searing sun to a fertile humus
And towards a wilderness, promised by the sun
The land spoke no words only profound barrenness
Lacking feel of the sensual caresses her eyes gave
Wasteland, and this emptiness…
Inside aching, outside burning
Whilst her hand fumbled in hopelessness
Searching for the tune of the unsung songs
Interred by her fruitless womb.
The soul yearning
For a touch, hands longing
For a feel.
Unto the gods, a frail heart begging;
Like the promised sun to the lands,
A promise of a son, to her hands.