Low light and the murky air
Damp, lurid; dust parade
Stale breath and the pounding of soft wood
Stage set, waiting for life
Walls set so high among the purple sky
The hills but glancing over the parapets
Icy hot stone turning me away
Perhaps the gate is on the other side?
Music starts, blank stares
Somehow betray a thought
As movement becomes grace, grace becomes meaning
And for once a call beckons
And the walls begin to tumble
Chipped by every sigh and every turn
Waters rush through the hills, sweeping aside
Sage brush and hot sands, charging
To drown out the scared girl’s cries
Yet they seep through the cracks
And lift you up
I had sent a ship to these shores
And the polished wood moaned as it came
Happy tidings of wealth and good-fortune
Its sails flapped in the winds
As I ponderously shoved it on course
Tentative as a mother releasing her child
The cold winds shake and maim
The crack of the heavens scare and restrain
The heaving hearts of the galley crew
Between the charming bay, engulfed by flame
Flares that failed and faltered when needed most
As the crew found themselves dashed against the rocks
It is odd to see this city, where my wares were bound
Inundated, gloriously awash
Perhaps my wares will float right through the gates
And betray effort and worry and care.
Because they are still out there
Floating through lurid seas, waiting.