Beyond the Margin [sonnet]

Posted on Updated on

beyond_the_margin

Sometimes we have to walk outside, alone,
in darkness, while the light remains unreached
in temporary blindness (source unknown),
with all our thin defences soundly breached.

Nostalgia for my true past dangles me
with ropes around my ankles over crags
of chalk and granite — soft and hardness, free
of sanity’s belligerence in rags.

Those cords then tensed themselves with tightrope grip
on every latent dream to scorch my mind.
So then, instead of playing brinkmanship,
those dreams have bloomed — now no more undefined.

No less than miracles will I accept
as now beyond the margin I have stepped.

.
.
© Alan Morrison, 2016

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s