Death, Uploading, Memory and, well, 'things'.

Sarah Marr (sarah.marr@dial.pipex.com)
Sat, 16 Nov 1996 22:21:28 +0000


Morning Light

Morning light, my morning light,
Slips slow over my love,
And clothes her in gossamer.

And turning now, she whispers,
Words of my creation,
But still I cannot hear them.

In her rebirth I saw hope,
I saw her phoenix rise,
Felt her sun-warm fire once more.

And sighing now, she slumbers,
Through dreams of my doing,
But still I cannot shape them.

In her rebirth I found warmth,
I found her company,
Reclaimed what Death had taken.

And dreaming now, she wonders,
"Why does she love me so?"
But still I cannot tell her.

In her rebirth I found pain,
I found her memory,
Saw lost truth behind old lies.

And worried now, she questions,
"Where is the past I had?"
But still I cannot answer.

In her rebirth I found grief,
I found her destiny,
Believed in her wish to leave.

And stirring now, she forgets.
"I am with my true love."
But still I cannot hold her.

In her rebirth I found light,
Yet lost it in darkness,
That drowned her within my soul.

And waking now, she rises,
And letting go my dream,
I watch as she slowly fades.

Morning light, my morning light,
Slips slow over my mind;
Clothes my loss in memory.

Sarah Marr

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Sarah Kathryn Marr
sarah.marr@dial.pipex.com http://dialspace.dial.pipex.com/sarah.marr/
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