False Dawn Poem by Mary Champion

The future approaches.
Fractured images drift towards me
like an incoming tide
breaking on the shoreline of my awareness.

Like God rising out of hell,
the golden dawn generates the light of hope.
Is this the answer?
- the answer I have sought all my life?

The light casts flickering shadows -
silhouettes of possibilities,
subtle hints of what is to come.
Nothing is clearly defined.
The intensifying light bleaches out the shadows.
I lose hope.