Through the veil of darkness, I relinquish my grip
as midnight engulfs the once twinkling stars I held dear.
Deceived by serpents, my vision warped,
day masquerading as night, and night as day.
Lost keys from another place and time
might be found beneath an unrelated lamppost.
A dodo bird falters, tripping over a wounded wing,
leading to a fateful fall.
Fires rage, tornadoes swirl, a hurricane follows in their wake.
That lustrous apple, a deceitful allure clouding my senses.
An alabaster dove appears on my shoulder
whispers of surrender caress my ear,
“Give them up to me,” he says.
I gather yesteryear’s rubbish in a burlap sack, presenting it to the dove.
Accepting the burden without strife, it soars into the horizon—
thy will be done, a solemn vow whispered on parted breaths.
—Linda Rosenkrans
