The fire ambers wasted away in
the darkness
Of the punishing room - emptying the night’s mares
Out the window in a chase for a new
day fluoresce
The mountain’s
brawn forming stairs
To run and run seeking the
morning’s cool caress.
There’s something magical in the
air
When the old night sheds away the
covers of blindness
And dawn’s naked vagaries hint
of bare
Silhouettes, with
the flowing hair,
Fleeing across to the distant
kindness.
Eyes are closed in fear however,
they can see
The end at the long edge of time
And heaven from a mountain’s climb
One
must eventually fall unto the sea
Where air and water chime as
internal rhyme.
No comments:
Post a Comment