an oracle with twilight eyes

wordcraft for the Fifth Sunday of Lent:

pale remembrance…
shadows enfold me
like a cloak that sheathes my skin

yet the embers
of days past
fade slowly into dusk
lingering with warmth
in the entombed silence
of a gardens shade

ashen commemoration…
plunging from the periphery
like the descent of a noble affliction

yet the vaticination
of an oracle with twilight eyes
is yet to be discerned
with sepulchral insight
evoked like indistinct tombstone rubbings
that mark transformation’s memorial

faint recollection…
memories dance out of reach
like the slow gait of a languid nightmare

yet the soft words
of a severe lullaby
invite me further
into the slumbering vision
imparted as night falls again
finding a fertile habitat within

quiet contemplation…
spirit at rest with providence
like the suckling babe at mother’s breast

yet the prophecy
of a future emancipation
is found familiar
with the poise of foresight
at-present unaware of the intention
and the harvest obedience will reap