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,
Deflected.

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
Reawakened.

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.

Dream and wander,
little one,
even in the dark.
Search heaven for stars,
find stardust in your
searching!
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,
breathless.
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.

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.

Of all the kinetic ripples
that shimmer across
our luminiferous
sweep of sky,
none move me like
the voyage of sleek Sakiya,
Princess of pristine flight!
Her poise is subtle,
her path a prance,
she springs upon the air
with ballon buoyance!
It is the pantomime dance
of her spirit
which keeps her
tracing the clouds,
and her quixotic beauty
should never be covered by shrouds.
With a boundless grace and
her beatific face, we are often
reminded of angels
winging in space!
I lift my heart
as she skims the sky,
with my belief in miracles
beaming from my eyes.
Lovely Sakiya, Princess of Flight,
May your cherry blossom spirit
always reach new heights!

Look up into cool, soft water-green
leafen shapes.
Earthen grays and browns,
that with boughs reach out and surround.
These lofty arms, hands and
wooden fingers drape
the sky as a mild, wild canopy enclosure.
They impart a misty ambiance,
all silent and palpable,
offering a living stave for the avian
creatures to create their songs upon.
The forest primeval, our ancient home.
Enter and feel your core awaken,
hear your soul whisper
long forgotten secrets,
sense your skin drinking
in the moist air like a parched traveler
arising from a desert of bone and rock.
Your intuition tells the truth:
The Mother welcomes you.