A fabled cathedral
Built on the Deep
Unknown to all
Save by sleep
Where wanderers gather
From ages far flung
To rest and to listen
For the Bell to be rung
And when it does toll
Will they worship in vain
Not for lack of faith
But for lack of great pain
To atone for their sins
Do they sleep yet awake
In hopes they they might
Their father's curse break
But the Deep rings its call
So somber and sweet
Like the call of a siren
That no man can defeat
Sweetly it whispers
Perfumes to the mind
In an instant to change
In a moment to bind
Those souls of wanderers
Beneath the stars of sleep
That they might trudge and fall
Into the maw of the Deep

As indeed the first one did

Who am I that I might know
What mystery might ebb and flow
Great wonders made to my eyes sealed
Things long lost to be revealed
Who am I what should I be
What weaknesses do others see
Surly none more than I myself
A detriment to my own health
I cannot alone myself make due
The world I've found is cruel too
Yet one through another clasped my hand
To lead me to the promised land
A grueling journey of great mistakes  
Weakness, loathing and sulfur lakes
Past that smoke in billows high
I open my eyes and face the sky
To a brighter vista than any before
A glittering pure and sun soaked shore
Where I might rest for a time and a half
To sing and sit and dance and laugh
Renew myself and stand once more

For the road goes ever on

Unto the sun
Walk and burn
Our feathers singe
When will we learn
That distant mirage
Shifting and sweet
Serves nothing more
Than aching feet
Yet walk we do
In vain march on
Not breaking rank
Until we are gone

Empty yellow legal lad lines
Computer screen blinking
Begging for a word
Better still a line
Your muse left town destination unknown
Yet the words flow like wine
Sometimes miserable
Other ones sublime
You hit delete
Play waste paper basketball
Then it falls into place
It’s grace
It moves the reader
Poet’s lament

C@rainbowchaser2019

His mouth forms a wide smirk
as the others laugh at his words.
But it isn’t funny.

She lowers her watery eyes, glasses slipping
down her nose.

Book pages flip
in the breeze that picks up.
She loses her page.

His mouth opens, sharp daggers sliding
from his lips
Their laughter echoed by the trees.

She gets up, stumbles, falls.
Lines of carefully thought-out words tumble to the ground
his foot stretched out in front of her.

Their hands reach for the pages.
Fingers wrap
Around worn bindings.

They play tug-of-war,
trying to pull it out
of each other’s grasp.

A rip.

Papers scatter in the wind.
Snickers fade with the footsteps
as her eyes rain tears.

I bend down.
Papers fill my hands
one by one.

She looks up.
The sun lights up her clouded eyes
as she takes the faded pages,
in her grasp again.