the Mourning Breath part1

a golden autumn morn’ awakens the earth
the grey mists dance through the trees,
a forest just beyond paradise

deep in the wood where the poet last sighed,
the leaves’ descent was sung to the sky
light through the velvet fog,
the sun shone upon a still figure
lonesome man hung from the oaken limb

a noose, silent in stark departure from dreams
empty, bitter, silent-
once sustained by the mourning breath

when tears dry and are left to the dust
seek and bring the dawn you wish
heaven’s gates will hold you,
when your final whisper departs from graying lips
and into the folds of white wings you will fade...