In the Darkest Hour

by

Phil Pochurek

In the darkest hour
Before the dawn
While the dew is just settling
Out on the lawn
She reaches for me.
And in my dreams
The channel changes
Images fade
As she rearanges my dreams,
To suit her needs.
Not quite awake
But not asleep
Ever so slowly
Her images creep,
From out of the darkness
From out of the heat
And into the view
Of my minds eye.
There's a sense of rhythm
I'm starting to note
And a feeling of heat, of urgency,
As I start to float
Down a river of passion.
Gently rocking over her waves
I can feel the current
That drives me now.
Pounding faster and harder
Upon my bow
Recklessly rocking our boat.
Racing towards the rivers bend
Past the point of no return
There's no looking back
To where we began,
As we tumble from our boat
And begin to swim, for our lives.
Gasping for breath
With every stroke
We scream and moan
As we race for shore.
Then suddenly our river is gone.
Over a cliff, off a waterfall
As we spill into the dawn.
And with a splash of great release
We fall head long
Into the quiet, into the peace
Of a deep, dark, pool below,
Our conciousness.
Now like the dew upon the lawn
Our urgency, the heat of passion gone
We slip to the bottom of this primal pool
In a lovers embrace
Beyond dreams, beyond fears, beyond rules.
Totally still and out of breath
In sleep released from all her power.
Into a sleep, near that of death,
Before the dawn
In the darkest hour.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at How
by: Edward M Calkins, Jr.
from: Olathe, KS, US

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