The Eyes of Heaven

The Eyes of Heaven watch me walk

across the virgin snow,

impassively marking

my passing

 

I see the winter wolves in

my periphery, gathering

in curious, carnivorous lust

for blood and meat to slake

their killing urge

 

The blade of my knife is

cold

against my thigh

 

The weight of my sword

gives me

balance

in the

high, white drifts

 

And the

Eyes of Heaven

glimmer with memories

of other travelers

who’ve traversed these

rugged rocks

 

Some to their hearths,

Some to their gods,

And it is all one

to the

Eyes of Heaven

 

And I stop,

feeling the chill night wind

in the thick fur

of my hood,

in the scruff of my

wild whiskers,

and look back into the Eyes of Heaven

And long to be

loved,

 

But

they are 

as blind to me

as they are

infinite

 

And the Eyes of Heaven

close

to dream

and

remember

ages past,

and

unsoiled

virgin snow.

 

 

 

 

Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

1 thought on “The Eyes of Heaven”

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