Wake a Spark

Once again wondered briefly why
my feelings had died, returned to
the translation on my desk ready
to be checked and remembered
endless research of nonsensical
terms for uncaring readers while

Earning idiosyncratic marks from
invigilators, freezes the emotion
that lived within me, living life as
the remains of the teeming sparks
of passionate feeling, then I smile
- little things always wake a spark

From time to time, nothing can keep
my spirit down eternally, the yoke
of death is just veneer that enables
me to carry out constrictive duties
while my soul is high, clear & free
and carries on a separate life

High above the contamination of
routine life, upon death we return
to the higher spheres, dying within
duty until that joyous moment when
we continue unto lovely infinity…

poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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