A Saving Grace

The scales stay impervious
Hesitant against the dead weight
Tugging at the spring
It may yet blossom
It may not yet carry any fresh bloom
A season is hermetically sealed
In the silence of unaffordable words
The buyers of a voice can wait awhile
While the emptiness gets healed

We take swimming lessons
Across aerial views
The avian self follows the eye
Till the exhaust of lost days reprise
A slowly dispersing smog
That the rains shall further expel
Taking ghost stations upon invisible perches
Catching trains of lost thought
Tying loose ends into fresh offsprings
Spawning new from what ends now
In the hope that the last rays of breath
Shall catch a saving grace.