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Aug 2014
as if pebbles underfoot
the sky sings a coarse lullaby

we sit
stubborn and thick
in the clenched pipe of time
unable to pass us

it seems strange, now,
thorns have cleared a path for us;
clouds bulge
in dark promise

oh, the envious hymnal breeze!
how it wrings its wrists
in heavy handed disbelief

a cathedral of trees
holds you and me between earth
and spangled evening

our geometries slowly converge

the unknown looks away in fear
as the pulp of our understanding
sweetens the ink of our verse
intertwined

from broken shells the bird steps
from her beak night screams
missiles of ancient light

weave the moon
Written by
Johann Botha  South Africa
(South Africa)   
513
   shåi
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