No streetlamps to light the way
pure darkness envelopes. The
sea, the land. The sky has come down.
Leaving her starlight far far behind.
The darkness now will reign. As
Winter bristles her cold breath
through every shadow and nook.

Talk of fruit, hanging plump.
A feast for generations
-to eat.

Talk of fruit, juicy ripe.
A gift of love. For-
love. Freely given.

the silence wounded;
tolling of the bell;
rings out ever more
the longer you live.

a break in the chain
soul set free;
a walking away;
a walking toward.