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Words will forever
Words will forever be the clunky steps in the eloquence of silence
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Only a boulder
Only a boulder among the glittering rocks of the river. It is not that it fights you; it only eases against the speed at which you skip in the river’s current. The depths call it harder than the ripples ever could. Have patience, world! For once, the boulder moves, the waves will touch deeper and further than one…
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Unhewn
I seek the untrained eye, the untrained hands, and the untrained tongue; in such things, do the strings lie open to the dark northern winds, and sings a music unrefined, unhewn and never repeated.
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Oh! How She commands me!
Oh! How She commands me! Every cell and atom quivers and spins to Her. Not a hair can I raise on my forearm but from Her cool breath blowing over my skin, inflating my lungs, and popping my joints alive Like a puppeteer, She dances me away and away; and I laugh in ecstasy…
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Tender is…
Tender is my lips, murmuring over my sister’s burning brow Tender is my eyes, glazing in the purple sunset of your memory Tender is my fingers, running through my mother’s graying hair Tender is my breath, smoking white in a cold night, wisps curling over in quiet longing Tender is my silence, when words refuse to sound…
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“Be,” says it.
You need not command it demand from it, nor fight it in fear. You are but a speck in its Eye floating like dust motes with not a finger on your flight’s— trajectory. You can do nothing but drift in its presence each existing for the other: To see and be seen.
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Dreaming through my window
Draw me a picture, I say and yellow streams through the windowpane It paints a golden canvas on my wall with the tail end of your shadow swaying gently in the dipping sun. The picture softens and sharpens as if, I sit in the center of an Eye as it blinks bleary-eyed, dreaming through my…
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If words could set you free
These black lines on white are not bars; if you gaze long enough, you will see the many doorways set ajar ]
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Warm lies.
The world blurs into shimmering blobs of light; they bubble around me, and one by one they go— pop pop— bursting into the cold, dark night The warmth recedes My toes and fingers are cold I am cold so cold
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The Verse of Being.
There were four children who wove the wicker of fire that colors every blade of grass, every eye that is. One covered the sky, in her disappearance she sparked secrets that swirled in her silent cauldron And the other, took the form of sea foam, she came and went playfully sprinkling precious salt, sea shells…
MindWraith 