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


against my thigh


The weight of my sword

gives me


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




they are 

as blind to me

as they are



And the Eyes of Heaven


to dream



ages past,



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...

One thought on “The Eyes of Heaven”

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