as plants grew,
and life blossomed,
I was stuck in winter.

left with the misty nights
and no feeling left in my
toes
fingers
or heart,
I was stuck in winter.
watching a warm spring celebrate
my faraway
sun.

the twinkling lights around my head dance.
all my worries are faded and gone --
i sit here thinking of a good expance
that i cannot seem to look upon.

my heart is longing for a new sounding
of a drum that seems to be too distant.
i am still hopeful that it is astounding,
without hope sanity is nonexistent.

-Dear God..
Can you hear my prayers..
Or will my words be swallowed in the snow..
I always feared suffering in your endless inferno..
I can almost hear the screams of the afterlife..
Torture is the ultimate cost of sin..
-To you..Mighty Zeus..I pray..
With trailes of blood and tears on my cheeks..
Your presence fills my lonely days..
Your crystal-draped whispers give me a hint of safety..
Hell is only temporary..eternal is Heaven..
Tartrus is the devine punishment..
To the ones who refuse submission..
And Hades..is the land of lost souls..
-Tell me..Great Odin..
Can you hear the agonized screams of your loyal slaves?
Can you see them waging wars in your name?
Raising the black flags of destruction?
Or are you too busy sipping your precious nectar?
Our silence is not the answer..
We shall ascend to your Asgard..We shall break your throne..
Remember..Great Odin..
Ragnarok approaches!
Divinity is only temporary..eternal is Valhallah..
And injustice is a sin..punishable by death..
-Forgive me..Amun-Ra
I fear the darkness that is you..
I kneel before your divine image..
I tremble at the sound of your voice..
Redeem me..of the evil that is you  
From the wrath embracing my entity..
And reward me..with your resonating light..
Blood..is the cost of forgiveness..
-Dear God..hear me..
Whoever you are..
Whatever name you may hold..
I beseech your wisdom..
They see you in statues..in Heaven..in death..
I see you in the verses of the Bible..
The hymns of the angels..
The warmth of melody..
The scent of parchment..the softness of silk..
I see you in the parades of death..to our sacrificed martyrs..
I see you in her braids..her voice..
The dance we had..
You're the beats of my cold heart..
I ask no forgiveness..but I seek inception..
A chance to start over..
To fall in love once more..

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth—
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth—
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?—
If design govern in a thing so small.

He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
Her tone of meaning but without the words.
Admittedly an eloquence so soft
Could only have had an influence on birds
When call or laughter carried it aloft.
Be that as may be, she was in their song.
Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed
Had now persisted in the woods so long
That probably it never would be lost.
Never again would birds’ song be the same.
And to do that to birds was why she came.