The quirky wink of the laughing tortoise.
Too much silence, screaming loud noise
at the people so used to having bullhorns  
in their voice box. The tortoise talks of tickling
tongues with songs sung by an old irishman
after fishing for patience. Talking of whisky tasted,
and the faces of the woman who used to pull the
strings on his back.  The tortoise laughed and laughed
and the little lizards had little to say back.

at the time, you made my world
a little bit brighter, and for that,
I'm forever thankful.
things are different now,
but perhaps we're both better for it.

Slice the silk sky,
Could these flocks still fluently fly?
And yet they're doomed to die
From our own fluorescent sighs.
Still by and by,
We all create our own cause to cry,
Slivers of silver sadness
Fleeting for flavors of fellowed madness.
Do deities determine our days,
Or is freedom figured to fade?
It seems sorrow is truly made
From our feathers clipped in haze,
Where wisdom weeps in worry,
And bygones are bled out in a hurry.
Love the light in my dark midst,
Heed this heart with a last kiss.
Forever can forever be
The lit signal to guide to me.
Down comes the rain of love divine,
Sweet to the touch, with a sour smell of pine.
Sigh.
Let your bones quiver with the wind.

Let the dark doubt that is dear to me be driven downward.
Melt my clouds of sadness, illuminate my feet to the right path.
Where do I walk?
Among mortals, among the blind, among the living, and among the dead, through the vale of unbroken promises, and away from the mountain of shattered dreams.
Mirrors draw the portrait of morningstar heat, of the shrouded past break through the mist to fill in the apparition of what is seen.

Morning light invites all the sleepy colors to awaken
from their slumber:
Red responds in a bright flash;
Yellow winks as it smiles;
Green unfolds calmly, almost asking for reprieve.
Blue is restless to heed the call ;
The World explodes, alive to the sunlit balm.

J Eduardo Ramos©