June 16, 2016

the glint prophecies

we started out 
hiking lights on 
in the slung west 
of morning 

we moved to the East 
where the valley's dark 
and dew had crept 
after midnight 
and now swam 
in the unfurl 
of a new day beginning  

most evenings 
in the southern reaches 
of the boreal forests 
are wept with Summer 
they are full of underbrush 
to sky reaching leaves 
and they catch 
in slow crawl 
all the water 
before it rains 

while dreaming 
of the future 
we have become 
paralyzed, almost 
by our intelligence 
our emotions 
what we are 
leaning into 

most precognition 
is tapestry unseen 
scent worthy passages 
sounds of nocturnal 
desire readying 
what is next 
or at least 
thought of 
as divine 
or inspired 

the glint prophecies 
of what we humans once 
as pure animals wore 
bent low to drink with care 
were enough to never have 
to speak the poems 
or write them down 

enough to dare one's self 
past currencies 
and histories of bones 
and souls and into the flesh 
of feeling we might 
have been here all along 
and that we did and do indeed 
bleed and belong to the songs 
the wind makes circling around 
this planet in ghost cried eons 


1 comment:

  1. Oh I like your work! Thank you for stopping by to read my small piece today