the tree rises in the dark
fine needles, like fingers
forming in the love of the womb
like hay hooved back into the stable in the spring
spring. summer. No one can imagine the warmth;
a different warmth. sun warmth. animal warmth.
Curled up in winter, we nestle into a different warmth.
we huddle together like a litter of mammals for heat
in the nights of the storm
we feel Gods watching us
with fiery anger
and flowing loves
we see the streetlights like pathetic fires
sprawled out across the valleys
where the mist sets in the day and the sky consumes at dusk
the house is haunted
but we shake the old bones' hands,
we sing and dance and shout,
red in the face,
red in the blood, the heart,
we give the ghosts flesh so they may sit with us,
so we may love and cherish and laugh
so we may sleep safely wrapped around one anothers limbs
the great sprawl of humanity
awake again for the touch
of winter warmth.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
the tree rises in the dark
fine needles, like fingers
forming in the love of the womb
like hay hooved back into the stable in the spring
spring. summer. No one can imagine the warmth;
a different warmth. sun warmth. animal warmth.
Curled up in winter, we nestle into a different warmth.
we huddle together like a litter of mammals for heat
in the nights of the storm
we feel Gods watching us
with fiery anger
and flowing loves
we see the streetlights like pathetic fires
sprawled out across the valleys
where the mist sets in the day and the sky consumes at dusk
the house is haunted
but we shake the old bones' hands,
we sing and dance and shout,
red in the face,
red in the blood, the heart,
we give the ghosts flesh so they may sit with us,
so we may love and cherish and laugh
so we may sleep safely wrapped around one anothers limbs
the great sprawl of humanity
awake again for the touch
of winter warmth.
