Fallen Angel

Sometimes I feel my passion spilling

out in sobs, the way a fountain overflows.

I know I hear it, sighing as it goes, and

searching my wings – find heaven’s wound.

As drops turn to streams, and streams to stone,

the soil under my feet feels like a lost battleground,

sucking my soul down, alone, to all that has fallen,

and I sink into the dying gravity of this world.

How often have I called for the wind to dry,

if only for a day, this wasting tear –

to take my years from me, to blow my eyes clear!

But now, in love’s Fall, all I see is blue oblivion.

All I see are red leaves and Autumn’s shadow near,

THEN, she is here, falling into my arms, lips touching mine –

and as I close my eyes, I feel her wine.