On a breeze

A zephyr – a flickering of cool air in a summer’s afternoon.
A wisp of a shadow that passes on the periphery.

I touched it; or rather, it touched me.
Like a siren’s call, it drew me to the shore, and like Jason, it broke me.

So many questions without resolve. Signs ignored for the sake of self,
to drink again from that fountain but without relief.

Mea culpa, mea culpa! My fault for believing.
My own fault for hoping; for the healing power of love and devotion
and the reign of goodness and grace.
And yet, I still believe.