In the corner of my room
stands a desk,
a humble desk beside the window.
Upon the desk lies a tome,
open and inviting, that
leads me on a path I will continue.
At the lonely hours of the night,
I cross the threshold to strange
and seminal worlds,
illum'd by simple candle light.

In truth, the tome casts its own glow:
it gives me its glimmering gems of wisdom,
its waning Moonstones of inspiration
and the precious treasures
of knowledge that emerge from the

My soul seeks these pearls of
grand vision; I seek to
enrich my view
of our whirling, protective sphere,
to unearth the subtle shades
and hidden layers of
Her verdant frontier.

From my solitary desk,
windows of crafted prose and
elaborate description open to
a world rich in
wondrous experience!
These pages are portals
of the exploration the mind, the
discovery of the heart, and a
spirit of enduring resilience.

From the pristine pages of
my beloved books rises
mountaintop vistas on
our multifaceted world,
our diverse history
and our creative power.

And the light flows to me and around
my lonely room.

Michael Briefs Dec 2017

A kiss.
A small thing, like a mustard seed compared to the crushing pressures of our desperate world.
But, doesn't the sweet, small, precious gesture revive the soul,
heal the mind, and quicken the flesh?
Oh, yes, richly so!
May the new year give me thus, this fleeting gift,
that small miracle.
May it come sweetly and may my longing be satisfied,
to experience a taste of the divine unity;
when two lovers, in the twinkling of an eye, become one.
May the mountain of my solitude be moved,
may a resurrected heart rise in it's place.

Michael Briefs Dec 2017

I live in a world of rapidly diminishing returns,
Seeing the days grown short.
Looking out to the horizon,
A shadow rises against the backdrop.

Pulling my coat against the chill,
I shudder as my weary eyes water.
Another day grinding
To a halt, times of laughter
For which I cannot barter.

I walk a lonely path, my feet echoing
Foot falls on the firmament.
I drag the load-stone of a troubled past
Made permanent.
I struggle to keep up, to push forward
The leaden weight of existence.
All around me is dead air,
A dull roar,
And my quiet, hard acceptance.

My life in the blackened breach,
With hope just out of reach,
And all my defenses engaged.
Sculpting the weight, and act to create
A monolith of defiance,
On this mortal stage.

But the elements scorn and
Reject my weakened will.
I've become averse to the sound
Of my own heart.
When will it be still?

In my desperation, my restless mind drifts:

I feel like I am lost in a forest of petrified bereaved.
The face of sorrow chiseled on everything God has conceived.
Branching up with life ended long ago.
Of those rooted to the ground, the posture of exaltation is
Twisted and gnarled, stunted and calcified.
All here are defeated,
All denied.
These vanquished stand upon an ashen earth,
At the foot of a heaving mountain of fire.
It dominates the landscape, thundering and quaking,
Churning with molten mire.
The power beheld is hollowed and hellish,
A betrayer of my heart's desire.
Devoid of fertility, it sends its toxic waste
Spewing toward the lurid sun,
Its fume chokes my parched throat;
On my knees, I feel my life is run.
The mountain is a false god, lying.
It receives my agonized worship,
From a soul whose prayer is dying...

I want to wander astray,
To leave this wreckage and flee;
Slipping through the wire, undetected.
I would spend a day
Far away from the war flags
And scorched battlements --
And the smell of death,

If only I could face down
The demonic mountain of fire
With a renewed heart of passion!
To recreate the charred landscape
In the image of my life

I must try
To utter a new song
Of exaltation,
From a love that is triumphant!
A sound soaring up toward
The warming sun,
A new day expectant!

The sculpted monolith will finally
Be raised, completed...
A graven icon of my spirit, undefeated.

One of those I wrote when I was feeling, particularly, the loneliness and separation. That hasn't changed but I have learned to live with it, a little better now.
Michael Briefs Dec 2017

While wintry air blows,
Aswirl with busy gleaming,
The quiet woodland drapes
With a white, misty teeming.
The falling, hushed deep
Gives a sleep
To the striving
Of creatures and the wild
Entangled roots,
Brambled and sprawling.
Air silvering, hearts warming,
Breaths fogging...

Fairy of the forest cold,
Goddess of the Winter way of old!
She-Sprite, dancing between the trees
Of our friendly woods,
Fleeting amidst the venerable Stand
Which silently
Protects our neighborhoods.
Her rarefied breath,
Her crystalline eyes,
Her graceful hands
Casts an enchantment --
A spell known well, within in our souls.

Our spirits, adrift in dreaming, know her
Song's whispering and it thrills us,
As we sleep
Beneath the whitening silence
Of her wild winter

The picture this is based on can be seen at:
Michael Briefs Dec 2017

The evening's vaunted kingdom is wisely
Ruled by a child.
Her eyes are bejeweled
With diamond-spangled dreams,
Her bewinged enchantment is wild!
Queen Audrey declares her royal fiat
And lets her fancy fly.
She gathers her legions, setting the alight the sky!
She proclaims to her realm:
"Rise! Play! Shine and away!
Cross the heavens with speed but be not afraid!
I command the stars above me to slay the nightly shade!
Go forth, my army! Gallop to distant shores!
Herald the message I give you now, tell them
Simply, 'Stop all your wars!'
Grant your mystical glow
To the troubled world below and
Help them all to mend.
For when they look to their higher selves,
Their spirits will again transcend."

The picture that this is based on can be seen at:
Michael Briefs Dec 2017

Dream and wander,
little one,
even in the dark.
Search heaven for stars,
find stardust in your
The brightsome scatter of lights,
fleeting before your eyes, leaps
forth from your listed and
longed for desires.
Even in the shivery
nightshade you waste
not a moment!
Your muse calls,
casting spells from a wand,
and you quest after, bravely,
A child's sojourn into the fabled forest,
with her stardust eyes,
her Hafling host leaves it's
trace in the snow, glistening.
Her breath, now vaporous, rises in pursuit.

The picture that this is based on can be seen at:
Michael Briefs Dec 2017

Black rose, with seam of gold,
Visions penetrate the air
With mysteries untold.
An ancient word spoken,
A waxen seal is broken;
Crow's flight stabs the sky,
As blood flows from a lie.
Poisoned knowing,
Wisdom divine.
Wind of change blowing,
We perceive the sign.
All our days are counted
And seen from above.
All our fears surmounted
When we take flight in love.

The picture I based this one can be seen at:
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