I will wade through the fire and flame
across the void, against shattering current
an arrow through the water, like so
I shall glide, unwavering, undeterred

I will wait through perdition and justice
against time immemorial, and chained truth
freedom knows no such strength
as that which I abuse in silence

I will serve through temptation and harmony,
evocations of fear tremble 'neath my resolve
my eyes pierce the unimagined veil
of love, loss, and suffocation

I will meet you on the other side of hell
scathed, battered, and bruised
a testament to eternity's inadequacy
in my devotion

the Coyote laughed at my joke
and said he had not heard it before

Whither wander you, Traveller
He asked with a grin full of rue,
baring sharp angled teeth
he teased the chill in my bones;
the numbing dread I was succumbing to

"to the End," I said, brazen tone lauded in ill-advised curiosity

Which End
retorts the Coyote,
my small fire dancing mischievously
in his timeless eyes

"Of my days,"
the river 'side my camp, sneaking by, made no move to intervene

Then I shall show you the way
He suggested
without much room for question

For I have been, and will be again
the soft fur shimmered with the stars reflected in the sky above

*and you are just beginning.

To the night wind I give
the embers of old love,
from letters on this pyre,
and cast off this burden
into bright, cleansing fire.

To the night wind I give,
full of fond memory,
a drawn and heavy sigh
of the man I once was,
to rise into the sky.

To the night wind I give
the last stalwart bastion
of the dream I cling to,
my old and worried dream,
that I could still love you.

To the night wind I give,
beneath starry witness,
and born in amber light
promise to discover
a true love warm and bright.

a tickle of the river rumbles on by
tearing apart stones that tempt languor
the whisper of the flame echos beside
shattering the enforced calm of night
the ripple of battle knits the sky
predator and prey embark in love
the sarcasm of nature building the framework
of piecemeal eternity entrenched in freedom
the cyclical angle of come and go
pout and moan with ardor
as the arbors bend and root
and with this sickening contradiction
this beautiful atrocity
life laughs at the weak, stamps out the strong
and heaves a shiver of mere satisfaction

I hear whispers in the walls
Chuckles behind the curtain
And now the ghouls have made their calls.

A gnawing doubt, cold and certain
That shadows stole away the light
My heart grows cold, a heavy burden.

This house now stands as a blight
A monument to some great fall
Lorded over by this wicked wight.

anytime the skylark sings
secrets flutter, take to wings.
agonized scars torn anew
bleed letters, words, and lies
over skin profuse with fragile trust.
veins course like rivers over falls
ends from beginnings
such sorrows beget little lamentation.
over trees the skylarks soar
bathing in the pale moonlight
every dulcet tone born from memory.
lonely shadows on the heart
overcome in love
washed away in song.

A conversation held in silence (Hello.)
between blue eyes and green, long stares and held breaths
subtle twitches of the finger, and tucking of hair behind the ear.

(What aren't you saying to me?) A long uninterrupted gaze,
and one heart hammering in my chest and yours (What am I to you?)
the growing fear that the moment might be lost
by blinking or a cruel sneeze.

two reflections of two frightened would-be lovers
trapped by (Anything? Please!) poor timing and failing
commitments turned to fast regret

the hushed silence fades with the rise of the soft din of (You are...)
comfortable chatter, the ambient (...very...) background of a private eternity gladly forgotten in favour of quaint fantasy (beautiful.)

(I don't want to go.)
and then nature kicks in and we breath simultaneously
like an empire we are crushed, the silent blossoming sun on
an unattainable horizon wilts and sets.

"Hi."