Northern Rule - poem

I sat here waiting-
I’ve been waiting all my life.
I’m restless and tired,
yet I falter again and again.

There’s a fire inside of me;
yes, of the clichéd sort.
Sparked by desire,
fed by insatiated yearning.

As I sit, stare out into the night,
or let the sun blind my unrelenting ambition,
the tears turn to ashes
(I return to myBeginnings)
and it’s my fault-

The fire consumes me inside,
illuminating my longing,
and Memories from Then.

Remember the melody pulsating vigorously
through our veins, as we glided
across the Floor of my youth.

No Walls remained,
just endless skies.

It didn’t matter how the Sun would swelter
or the Moon would freeze-

All that I held dear, was
in my arms.

I’d spin, dip, Fly-
You’d be my wings.

I never knew what
Winter could do.

Watch these arms, floating down to my sides,
like amber leaves in Autumn,
after the life in them is swept by the
Northern Winds.

I’m still waiting, but
not for much longer.

My focus shifts to the
fear of the Currents.

They await the ashes, falling from me-
to carry them away,
before He can come-
to where I belong-

North, and higher still.

To where my Wings will lead,
returning to Warmth,
returning to You.