"Hurrying Toward Forever" (Poem 102)

A long time ago
my candle would awaken
me, the book, imagined
in my hands, a channel
of impressions.
Some, like scales would
begin to separate from
me, astonishing
and incomprehensible,
without matter, whistling
like a bird
hurrying toward forever
in a strange place.
The last farewells,
unfamiliar,
echo in the night,
delightful once again.

© 2013, by Hannah Six