The Enunciation Poem by Mathew Lewis

I burn…
Not for you,
And not for me…
For these –
Moments –
That lie wasting away
Beneath the sun.
I yearn…
For that deft touch.
For that gesture…
That one –
Thing
That might right
All that has gone before.
I wait…
But not in anticipation.
In expectation.
With longing.
But not in hope.
I pine…
Not for what we were.
Not for what we could be.
But for what we are not –
Right now.
‘Raising my head
I gather;
Every leaf,
Every branch,
Every breath,
Every part of Everything
That you left behind.
And I hold it dear.
I hold it close.
I make it mine.
I keep all of my blood,
My sweat,
My tears,
My horrors
In mind.
I speak…
But not with sound –
With fire –
With warmth –
With the whole,
And the opposite –
Placed firmly at my side.
And I dance…
I sing.
I defy!
I rejoice.
I do NOT go gentle,
But with my head held high,
Replete with regret.
With knowledge of how I failed.
Full of dreams left unfulfilled.
Head empty,
Heart alone.
But always with a spark –
In my eye.
On my tongue.
For all of time.

And into the sun,
I spread my wings,
And I fly.