Monday, February 6, 2017

one spring day in winter when .....

Is hard to write of sorrow that
knows the depth of three thousand years
from stardust to rooted human
braided, branded, shackled and fallen
thriving on rebellion's call
Oh! the mercy and grace of compassion's armor
truth feather wings
slick with sweat
and the blood of pathos
no reason
unreason
cooling tides of design
here within this sculpted heart
of
breath and beat
we strive
Oh!
we strive
Oh fingers spill the words
that rest in bones white and weary of winters bite
awaken to the eros-ink of black night
thick
with
promise
and
coming moonlight ...
Oh sorrow, you cloaked, elusive imp
tucked into the maple's shadowed root
golden shrine of narcissus tease
this battle cry of equipoise ...
Oh!



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