She doddered about
Watering funeral flowers
Brought home after the mass
Even the silk ones
Comfort, in it, was the same
Who could tell her any different?

Snow today, lighter
Than yesterday's, so heavy
Than yesteryear's, so deep
Seemingly lost feathers
Of newly anointed  
Divinity's messenger
Flapping heartily, resolutely
Upward, onward, on
Clear-cut, transpicuous lifting

And snow angels
Smirk tender amusement
As harbored resentments
Drift on

abuse is a picture that I am forced to paint
with colors I have never seen.
if I draw fists into open arms,
if I sketch an apology in between berating,
if I fill in every empty space with love,
no one will come running for
the child who cried help.

abuse is a phantom limb
still covered in bruises.
white coats and clipboards wonder
how it can still ache when it is no longer there,
infecting me with their doubts.
sometimes it feels heavier
than it did when it was a part of me.

depression eats at my weight until my skin is taut,
boarding up my eyes and locking my mouth.
blame has found solace in this blood,
guilt mutating my thoughts.
my potential used to live here,
but abuse has a reverse Midas touch
where everything that could have become gold
withers in its hands.

971

Robbed by Death—but that was easy—
To the failing Eye
I could hold the latest Glowing—
Robbed by Liberty

For Her Jugular Defences—
This, too, I endured—
Hint of Glory—it afforded—
For the Brave Beloved—

Fraud of Distance—Fraud of Danger,
Fraud of Death—to bear—
It is Bounty—to Suspense’s
Vague Calamity—

Stalking our entire Possession
On a Hair’s result—
Then—seesawing—coolly—on it—
Trying if it split—

1 Kings 15:24-  "Then Asa rested with his ancestors and was buried with them in the city of his father David. And Jehoshaphat his son succeeded him as king."

Hand passes baton
Race not about runners
An objective not at odds  
To something further than singular
It is about the passing
Dedicated motion
Maintaining of
Exchange at maximum speed
Invigorating something else
Notion of familial  
Virtues vested
In a completement
Of the passing on
And a carrying of values
So well learned  
From another before
And His trust given
Rewards of a relay
Are plural
With an instinctual handing off
Of Faith
In a mentor before

Predicament of the zero hour
enabling brave or foolish decision
Even  mélange of both
Hitting home
physical structures oppose
Unfleshly
Holy Ghost takes over,
very much also  
Divinity and arousal

Only human
perched on brink of flight
dwelling is no perception
of freedom
Apprehending bigger picture
"To judge is not to love"
or something Mother Teresa said

When Pops referred to "The Bible"
it meant, bring him the sports page
Dichotomous our separate ways
revealing conscious decisions
Tridented a third eye  
When a vision of something further
sends to sentiment beyond
Cast and flung
Stealing home plate
and called, "Safe"
Pondering what only a god
may leverage

She beckons Earth underfoot
Time for Seasons to reset
Goddess of Egyptian Spring, Renpet
Palmshoot reaching, curving, sprouting
Desires let

To fertility of world She sings
Commanding what nature must
Warmth of fresh sun dewed lust
Birth and growth She informs
Of equal trust

Datenut ***** are running slim
Provisions of winter running out
Time for Spring pea planting, no doubt
For Renpet knows and ends
A knowledge drought

Her reign is rain
And this wetness is welcome
Sprouting what just, shall come
Amending reason and truth
She'll come

Silence will not do, but does.
Datura are in bloom below
equatorial divide,
or is it above?
Nevertheless, I smell them
just as moon rises.
That is how I know.
"No understanding of this,"
says an upside down bat,
who I've named Plato.
We enjoy our cave dwelling,
clamminess included.
Visitors suchlike the snake and mosquito down here, get eaten
by he and I.
Venturing out isn't required.
Distinction between shadows
and puppets to us are visible.
Our senses are keen.
We can turn our heads around.
Still, we stay in the cave.
For all our nutrition comes to us.