Melancholia: A Choice

Melancholia Vinco (1925)

Toes that indulge themselves, burrowing in the cool sand,
And eyes that ignite with a burning passion, chased the Waves,
Looked up, and watched a black Beauty pierce them
Through that rage, and tired screaming which so profoundly calls!

A calmed hand chose the stones from the shore, placing it into their pockets.
A step forth into the pulling current, singing, singing–storm of the mighty Eye!
But halt with a foot in mid-air, as the gentle waves caress the skin,
And make the weight of the stones heavier, breath by breath.

Fighting a life of torment for far longer than desired,
The heavy burden of the stones awoke the longing for freedom.
And yet in trying to ace oneself, they almost locked away,
The chance to create a world of joys, for a new beginning and change.

The thunder shrieked and objected, step into the Waves!
The moon shone as brightly as ever as a beacon that beckoned,
A tear rolled down a tender cheek and a small foot withdrew,
That nearly stepped into the Waves and took the Soul with it.

Now here I sit, and a page of words, and a memory of that Time.
Recalling how hurt the clouds appeared when I bid goodbye.
How welcoming she was of me, even in my demise!
Yet I refused self-sacrifice with sorry and sorrowful eyes.

I regret not my apologies, although my heart still beats here,
Gazing down at my cradled Child, as her breath tickles my ear.
This little Life touches my Soul more than all that I had known,
And when I misplaced the denouement, she gave me a little home.

And as she grows, I will say, this appreciation has made me stay,
Life's meaning is to find your gift, and your purpose, to give it away.