Your fall,
golden death, so admired.
Wind blown, destination
unknown.
A surrender to the air
laid to temporary relief.
Vulnerable, at mercy to the elements.
no control of destiny,
a hostage to fate.
Nature, the cruel mistress
does not let her subjects rest,
a whimsical breath
and they obey.
I am glad that I met you,
for those brief moments
loving your imperfection,
charmed by your injured self.
Your wound, so open,
darkness, so beautiful.
Then we parted, your jouney unfinished.
I watched you tumble, turn and fall.
I returned to my reality
enriched by our transient rendezvous.
– Ciaran Burke
