Want takes me to the galley,
one turn lost to others.......
trying to rescue
the drowning sky.
Turning away
from the dream
of light’s warmth.
Waves double our vessel's pulse.
Allowing respite to creased brows
Night awaits
on Calvary,
her bed,
remembrance keeps us.
Song's vigil sweeps this residue on.
Brutal Utopias
in the clouds:
The mast turns
to reflection
but skies fall..........
We are sung by eyes clouded over.
We curl into
skyless ombre.
Mother Night enwombs.
Day is Father's wake.
With Sun's ascent
he lowers eyes
and the son strains
under its brilliance. In his eyes
the Cosmos
taken from our eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment