A gentle note rings across damp soil;
the sun yawns distant with orange hues.
Sparrow wings spread like uncoiled wants,
left to the caprices of the wind.
A beat, they brush the naked blue,
across the pristine white of looming clouds;
golden light flickers between them,
the day has come alight.
The sparrow vanished in a sea of cloud and light,
lost in the blue yonder.
The forest’s edge stands astride,
giving way to thoughts of obsidian tint.
Fingers of plutonian ore
swallow beast and tree
in despondent sigh.
No comfort comes from the starless sky;
the Moon is veiled in mourning.
Critters of leaf and grass lay unmoving,
fear held in dilated irises.
Those who own the night thread e’er softly,
seeking sacrifice to appease that old god, Hunger,
upon an altar of rotting leaves and cold soil.
But hark, dawn’s sword splits the blackness,
scattering the shadows away.
Respite comes with the morn’s first light,
under twinkling radiance shapes take form.
A new day strikes for the forest old.
Somewhere, not far, a bird sings indifferent.
Hoofed steps skip a beat,
the earth holds its breath.
The stream burbles, the wind swishes,
leaves rustle. Wait, a branch snaps.
The moment breaks, now it is lost
Spring whispers, but the deer is gone.
I spoke to the city gray
Asking for its secrets
Enshrined behind stone
They were stepped on
By feet uncaring
I drew water pure
From a fountain
To drown my
I climbed a peak bare
Touched the ceiling
Of a world chained
Yet the nomadic wind
Remained ever free
I beckoned the sea without end
It came to me unrepented
The waves touched my lips
Sharing the secrets of the deep
I found my heart again there.
I rose a garden
Made of sighs
Count the years
To know the seeds
Before we parted
A garden bloomed
From quiet desperation
Brittle and ephemeral
It lies still in my heart
Of sun-gripped lands
That you forgot
Into a long sunset
There is no garden
That holds my fears
My nightmare came
To rest in you.
She saw the moon pass by, among the bottomless night. Dawn would come, but now she was alone under a million stars, each a pinprick of light. They twinkled to some unseen logic. The night sky was alive and she reached up with both hands. Maybe this time, she could touch the stars. Maybe.