Caron

 

The name doesn’t fall from the tongue

But flows gently out to form a shinning effervescence that envelopes my mind.

And the scene surrounding me becomes misted.

 

Caron

 

My mind goes back.  Why (though my mind knows) was her inebriating power ever resisted?

 

She stayed, she soothed, she satisfied.

She submerged.  But she surfaced in that distant land where my mind roams, unwilling

but compelled -- driven there to try to see.  But it’s too dark.

 

But in the dark the name comes to me.  I did not ask for it, but it flows from all my pores

and lightly covers me with a luminescence that blunts the edge of all that is savage in my

nature. 

 

Caron.  It calls but is softly unheeding.

It holds promise of all that I’m needing.

It’s so maddeningly, frighteningly receding.

Don’t go...I’m pleading.