Out of the blue you came, without
a name or associations, without history.
Walking into a serious night, starless
and without effort, you offered promises

of a future littered with lights
that would expel a brilliance
illuminating moment after moment
after moment.

We would be as one, bonded by
languages seasoned with delight
and the common speech of love,
the need for explanation gone.

You did not mention tears and isolation,
each and every thought burdened with
a grief so huge its shadow describes
my life, my life.

Now I have become a memory
that is easy to forget, a kind of dream
that is difficult to recall but there,
still there.

One day I shall become the angel
who promises love, a communion of souls
entwined and thoroughly touched.
Until then I shall wait, my language gone,

my love absorbed into the light of Sisyphus
whose shadow, black and bloodied, encircles
the earth dictating miseries.

John Cornwall

If you've any comments on his poems, John Cornwall will be glad to hear from you.

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