Snow Day

snow-at-the-beach

 

A blanket of honeyed silence

Fell over the world last night,

And in that first moment of stillness

I had only the clouds of my breath,

Crystalline as they rose,

To remind my soul

Not to flee towards the fractals

Of the frozen sea.

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Genesis

1280px-paisajes-oscuros-hd

 

I come from the forest

Where dreams go to die,

And the smell of loam,
Deep and dark,

 

Disguises our every secret;
Where the silence,

Impenetrable as the fortress along the shore

Where impossible wishes spawn,

Swallows every sound.

Dawn Light, Dawn Bright

dawn_by_freelancah

Glorious daybreak,

And the city lay shining in the distance,

Further inland,

Miles from these golden shores,

Draped in the finery of dawn’s light –

Blindingly, beseechingly bright.

 

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Sacrilege

icarus

 

The trees

Look like the sea of my dreams,

Today.

 

They are the rough waters

Into which I have fallen,

And these November currents

Are as brutal as they come.

 

They are fragments

Of a different life,

The one I’d thought I’d live,

The one that came and went

As swiftly as Lucifer did,

His chains swinging, singing as they fell,

And Him –

Weeping, not for himself,

But for mankind.

 

They are the fault lines

Upon which my city is built,

The fractalized wooden sentinels

That stand in lieu of worshippers

Within the House of the Savior

After it’s abandonment

Some time long and long ago.

eschatology: a poem

beam-me-up-goddy

 

(Eschatology: Noun. The theological study of the fate of the world.)

 

I am the rain that falls,
Redemptive;

I am the wind
That wearies the wanderer.

I am the silence
That befalls all sound.

Autumnal

fall-road-autumn-994x559

 

Somewhere,

There is life.

 

Beyond the starkness of barren trees,

Past the fallen leaves,

Just South of here,

There is life.

 

“Find me,”

It whispers in a silken voice,

A breathy gust of wind

Against the ear of the weary traveler.

 

“Seek me where the river meets her mate,

Where the autumnal trees burst back into riotous color,

Up past the mountains, where you shall find me

Worshipping at the altar of wanderer,

Hoping to be sought,

Praying to be found.”

 

And there She will be,

Looking like an angel,

Fallen to her knees –

“There,” you shall say,

“Is Life.”

A Song of Earth

A bird AND a plane

 

I wonder if the birds envy the planes,

If their ancestral stories of tell of times long and long ago,

Times when they were closer to God

Than any other being to walk across

This sacred Earth,

A time when seagulls laughed their taunting cry

As shoreward they soared,

A time when the youth were held in line,

And the elders were wiser by far,

A time when the air was purer,

And the sky was bluer,

And when you landed and looked up

And up

And up,

You could see not a paltry smattering of stars,

But rather, the glory of the universe herself,

The face of the Goddess each night revealed,

The broad brushstroke of her lips

Wrapped around the words

Of a love song about her home;

Her eyes sparkling

As she sung songs of Earth.