I never knew the rising hope,

That was mine when I heard your whispers.

Upon a sky blackened by the depths of night,

My heart took to owl’s wing and flew.

Mountains so tall colored the horizon with deep bruises,

As the world clawed toward sunrise.

I never knew what could spring within this sullen chest,

As your love set fire to long dried kindling.

Now I hold these flames close,

With arm raised to ward off the lasting cold of this dark night.

Stand me firm upon peaks so high,

That my face may be warmed by your waking light.

I reach up into the sky with fingers straining,

Hands grasping toward an eternal blanket of dying embers.

Please let my light not go out,

Let this lone beacon set a new season spinning.

For I am alone upon the mount,

Waiting for you.

I never knew as first one, two, then more lights spring up,

And a veritable sea of hope rises to greet this dawn.

I never knew,

I wasn’t alone.

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Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.