Hushed Awakenings

Hushed Awakenings
By Jera Berkana

Night
the beginning and the end,
and at some rendezvous shade.

Past
the battered hills ahead,
slope down to the meadows bend.

Spring
comes round in blissful sleep
and once when we were sitting by.

Past
shadows with no replies, atop the insatiable steep.

It
may be that we pass them still,
on that battered hill.

WE
will take my small hand,
and we will lead me into the greens land.

Breath
to breath
Where our hushed awakenings,
we shall fail somehow before,
Death.


© Jera Berkana (2006)