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Many times had I sat
At the base of that old tree
With its gnarled roots
And hanging branches


Dozens of happy memories
Were irreversibly linked with it
I couldn't help but smile
As I looked to it out the window


The sun had begun its descent
Spreading its golden rays
Through the branches and leaves
Of that lovely tree


I saw my daughter sitting
Reading under the tree
That I had come to know so well
And I nearly cried


But I stopped myself
I would have to be strong
For everyone
But for her especially


Before I lost myself in thought
The front door opened
They were ready
But I wasn't sure if I was


I looked one last time
Out the back window
To that ancient tree
Before putting my hat on


I still wasn't used to being bald
But I knew I had to do this
After all,
I have many more fond memories


To make under that tree
Two in the nest
And twelve in a box
Cold winter morning
Thick wool socks

A sunrise song
Red against white
From snow covered trees
Their maiden flight

Out the window
It may seem cold
Yet the world is full
Of stories to be told
The curtains gently blow
To reveal a face behind them
Though if it is yours or not
You can not be certain


You also notice a light
Behind the obscure face
Though its souce and distance
Remain a mystery


The cutain continues its flow
Following the current of the wind
Strange notes ring softly
Somewhere beyond the window


Looking out the window once more
You see that the face is gone
And the light has changed form
Though in what way is uncertain


The notes continue playing
Beginning now to form
A simple yet harrowing melody
As the dark curtains flutter


After a moment the breeze stops
And the curtains sit still
Your attentiom drawn from them
You notice the figure in the room


In the corner of the room
Sits a black mass of shadow
Its exact shape or form
Too vauge to determine


The only thing you could notice
Was the face among the shadow
It was the same one you had seen
Outside the open window


The curtains shifted in the wind again
Revealing the outside once more
But the light was now gone
Replaced by a engulfing darkness


Down the hall
A light bulb flickered on
Dimly revealing that black mass
And the face that sat among it


And then it too went out
And after it did no light
Returned to the room
Or to your eyes ever again


And then you woke up
As the curtains gently fluttered
In the late evening breeze
I had heard old tales
Of flesh and bones in the desert
Stretching as far as the eye could see
Scattered among the wastes


They say a great guardian
Once protected the cities of that place
Though now they are all sunken
Below the shifting sands


What happened there none can say
Though most wholesome folk suspect
There is nothing to be gained there
Save for an elder curse


Only a few had known
Of that sentinel's identity
And only one of them yet lived
With this knowledge in their heart


Being the sole bearer
Of such lost memory
Did I travel to that dark desert
With a singular goal in mind


To raise those great sinews and bones
Of that fallen guardian Gryr
Who is the last protector of man
In a time not yet come
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
  Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
  By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;

Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
  Thou madest Life in man and brute;
  Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
  Thou madest man, he knows not why,
  He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
  The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
  Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
  They have their day and cease to be:
  They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
  For knowledge is of things we see;
  And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
  But more of reverence in us dwell;
  That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
  We mock thee when we do not fear:
  But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
  What seem'd my worth since I began;
  For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
  Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
  I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
  Confusions of a wasted youth;
  Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.
Man is not meant to be alone
Yet down this path I shall go
Through forest tall and valley low

The road stretches
Beyond my sight
The world is cold
As if at night

The stars they fall
And pass away
Darkness bleeds
On into day

I stumble forward
Through rock and thorn
Continuing on
My path forlorn

When light I see
I'll close my eyes
And with the sun
I too shall rise

Man is not meant to be alone
Yet down this path I shall go
Through forest tall and valley low
Ever onward I shall go
I step into the room
The lights begin to flicker
And as they fail
A lone candle shows in the dark

The painting behind the candle
Is illuminated by its warmth
But as I drew closer
Its colors began to shift

After rearranging itself
The painting formed a new scene
Of a man wearing a trench coat
Sitting on a wooden bench

I stood before it with curious eyes
I could feel a light breeze
Come from a small lake
Beyond a willow tree

Overcome by the peaceful breeze
I reached out towards the portrait
Shocked, I saw my hand go through
Into the world of the painting

I slowly pulled myself
Into the ancient art piece
And soon I was engulfed
In the strange paint brushed world

As I looked to the bench
I realized the man was gone
And behind me I could no longer see
The entrance from which I came

Moving towards the bench
I saw a folded coat
Noticing the breeze again
I grabbed it and put it on

The world felt strange
As I sat on the bench
Somewhere beyond my sight
I could feel the warmth of a candle

And curious watching eyes
#1
The boards creek
In a broken home
Not due to time
But because she's alone

Wandering the halls
filled with dusty light
the old clock chimed
just out of sight

No one returned
Since the fight had concluded
The resentment only grew
As they brooded and brooded

And in their wake
They abandoned her there
With tears on her cheek
And tangles in her hair

she would look out the window
From time to time
But no one came back
The clock continued to chime
The sun has gone to rest
The sky turns from purple
To a midnight shade of blue

The tall trees gently sway
The scent of fresh pine
Mingles with the smell of the earth

Soft clusters of yellow light
Flash in and out of existence
All around me

The sound of a tranquil stream
Is further dampened by
The rustling of birds in their nests

The world prepares for sleep
And so too shall I rest
Among the now still night
Solemn towers
Ornate broken arches
An ancient place
Past all living memory


The curious may seek it
Yet never will it be reached
Though they may walk
To the edge of the earth


Ever visible yet just out of grasp
Perhaps beyond the mortal plane
Some call it the home of the gods
Others fear it and turn away


It is said that one man
Walked his whole life
And near death he stood
At the gates of that place


At his death they opened
And a beautiful feathered woman
Whisked him away
Through the ancient gates


The great gates closed
The moment they entered
Perhaps never
To be opened again


And the sun never set
Nor will it ever rise
In that distant realm
Beyond the waking world
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