What have we done to you?
We hung you up there, to
watch truth drain from you,
to justify why we drain it!
Our loss for words found
scriptural release.
You knew the time you were
out of, was no time at all--so
you couldn't help but love it.
No more a broken body in
question.
Even the flies that examined
your wounds shed their wings.
We made your bed, you slept
in full awareness--you heard
us seal your tomb, and grinned.
You got up, and went about
eternal life...remembering to
forget a shroud.

I call her the rainmaker
Meadow in my heart and a lake abundant
Out in the horizon the rain clouds are
But here in my heart the drops do dance

I call her sunflower
The path unworn is wary of company
A million a second a billion butterflies an hour
For there she were and lucky I be
I call her the rainmaker

Is it joy or contentment
Eluding me still
Or this happiness curse
That is making me ill
For where there's a will
I am still without weigh
I am feathers of nothing
In zephyrs astray
Only blue shades of grey
In my novel romance
By the twist I am fated
To wait in this trance
With no chance to advance
To the unwritten chapter
Without a prologue
So I know what comes after
The sound of her laughter
Now rhyming and riddle
This story began
Somewhere in the middle