Retrograde

Here there is light. Light.
Light carving softness into darkness
A quiet wave, lifting the heavier patterns of Winter,
Respite...tipped off the 'verge' and onto my shoulders.

Warm hands
Maneuvering in tedious display
Looking to follow the scent of something new
Laced with intention of old.

A past, woven in sinew with woolen thread
Sturdiness, structurally sound. Safe.
I want to hold the hand of a gentler option
Without the worried brow of suspicion.

The flow of untuned strumming
Whispers in fresh stages, alive in the glow of sound
The hush gains momentum..
Retrograde- spinning.