From the Outside, In

How much these aching eyes,
Lust for sights before them.
Glistening in perfection,
Life's sweet glow captures my gaze.
Distant dreams and sounds,
Full of silent taunts,
As I stand here alone,
A stranger looking out.

The actors play their roles,
Living dreams before me.
Played to perfection,
The ache to join them runs deep.
Flutters of winds drift past,
Bringing with them scents,
Of flowers in bloom,
As I stand here alone,
A stranger looking out.

My invisible cage,
Anchors me to the spot.
Trapped in perfection,
A prisoner in life's idillicy.
Forgotten moments,
Imprint deep inside,
As I stand here alone,
A stranger looking out.

The Living City

City at Night, © Nichola Jahn 2010

City streets,
Bathed in the husky glow of shimmering lights.
Echoing of a billion footsteps before mine,
As I pass through this historic place.
Silence overwhelming in somewhere so grand,
Seeped in historic moments,
A million miles from here, yet right on this spot.
Transported, my soul reaches out to ghostly memories,
Not mine to have,
Yet so real to experience.
A whispering wind catches my gaze,
As dark shadows,
Dance in the background,
With ritual precision.
Sadness emanates from the sobbing walls,
Silent sorrow at moments past.
Tactile memories as my hand run over cold stone,
Jagged where the years have taken their toll.
Each missing piece a notch in time,
Waiting to tell it's story.
Such faded grandeur,
Like an elegant old woman watching with grace,
Overseeing each soul that passes by,
Protecting them with her own strength.
Somewhere so beautiful,
Peace flooding forward from its very presence.
The lessons it gives both significant and loved,
The wise old storyteller,
Designed to inspire.