Magic? (May 2012)

My magic floats on my fingertips
Crackling, straining to be free
But I give it tighter rein
As I search for my haven.

Red bleeds all around me
A courageous thorn in vain
Love, like us, must return
To the ashes that we make of it.

My heart yet skips a beat
And yearns for your sublime love
How long will my magic be
Tethered, fettered and close?

What does time do?
How does it erode and fritter away
And chip away at invisible chinks
Like a deep draught of a favourite wine.

We go where we come from
And in us is a bit of everyone
When it's my time, will I remember
To haul my love along?

Or will it too, like my magic
Remain fettered and unsung
And unexploited...

Will no one see my love?
Will no one respond?
Is my haven still-born?