She flies on wings of ivory cloud,
the sun no longer gold,
within a silver amulet
upon a chain she’ll hold.
Her ebon hair now dancing
in the gentle evening air,
She sees the dreams of mortals
as she says her moonlight prayer.
There will be those she’ll cull tonight,
and those she will give dreams.
Her fingers gentle on their brows,
aglow with moonlight beams.
O come now, sweet Moon Angel
for your restless servant waits,
to once again ascend with you to
great Orion’s gates.
A solitary torch, a solitary man
who led a solitary life,
wondered what the world held
that all the people moved about.
So he wandered
beneath the stars,
and found an alcove
arch of stone,
supported by a wall
with two entrances
on opposite sides.
Did they lead to different places, or meet again?
He stood there, now knowing which way to go, unable to choose.
He is there still, but the fire has gone out,
the stars no longer shine,
and within his never ending
quest of questions,
treasures of answers
remain gathering dust.
I was lost, for how long I don’t remember.
There was only day night, hill and river, hill and river.
At the summit lay the ruins of a long forgotten castle, or fort,
pummeled by centuries of elements.
It sat now like a petrified toad on the hillside, with only
the sighing mountains for company.
Taking shelter from the strengthening winds,
I sat, closing my eyes, succumbing to the exhaustion of the climb.
Beneath your hands, a treasure lies…
A voice, but disembodied.
Go on, partake…
I scratched the soil with calloused fingers.
Open, and speak the words…
“I don’t know the language.”
It will know you, traveler. Speak them.
And so I did.
I no longer see the ruins, the sun, the starry sky, the sentient stones, the mountains, the spring grass, nor dunes of frosted snow.
I have become all, my memory seeded into the land, and
all the land seeded into me.
The book still lies just beneath the spongy soil’s surface.
Partake…
What will you show me?
“What do you see?”
Two constellations,
One you, and one me.
“What are we doing there?”
Dancing in space,
chasing the moon
in a wild, giddy race.
“What will you show me?”
What do you see?
“Us in a floating cloud,
restless and free.”
Where are we going?
“Who cares and who knows?
“We’re riding a cloud so
it’s where the wind blows!”
But all things considered
of all we can be,
I’m glad that you’re here with me
under this tree.
Do they know?
Should I tell them?
Are they worthy of the knowledge?
Am I?
I climb this tower to see what others can’t,
to feel what others won’t.
A whisper in my mind that
warmed my heart and chilled my soul
said, “This is the last one.”
I wanted to jump down, to cry out,
to warn, to incite panic that we might
save ourselves.
But the colors drew me in,
the breeze touched my face like a loving mother,
and I felt Time begin to die.
He took me from the tower as he passed,
and there would be no tomorrow, and no memory
of the last earthly glory my weary eyes witnessed
in this life.
And all the tears of the all the other watchers mingled with my own,
and together,
we put out the sun.
She is leaving now, but perhaps not forever.
Her desire was for better,
but nothing improved.
Life itself eluded her, and the wrong things
occupied her time and body.
There was no longer
anything or anyone
to keep her bound,
and in the incorporeal realm
of her wishes,
not a one came true.
She was not true to herself,
and she would make that right.
It would be today.
It would be right now.
But maybe, just maybe,
not forever.
A shadow rides a whirlwind,
and he runs, but it’s too late.
She sees him,
seizes him,
seasons him,
shells him,
and leaves him broken,
in bits of manhood,
ladling out
her curdled love.
As twilight falls,
she drifts away on
a black breeze,
swirling with shards
of broken promises.
Beyond Panic 