Near the Village of Sacred Beasts

trees

The moon’s
gone missing in the branches
and leaves enmeshed overhead, that
allow no light
to enter this place.
At times,
there’s movement in the spaces
between your toes, while
you follow
the faintest sound of running water
at an unknown distance. And
as you try
to exert your way
through your surroundings,
there’s too much in the way of
your body, your breath, your voice,
hair, eyelids, nails, teeth, and most of it
is neither soft to touch, nor too still, as
the forest constricts and
the trees close all about you, when
you remember that you weren’t alone
when you got here… in
the melancholy of dying light
of a long-forgotten sunset; but
your bearers couldn’t help
evanescing into the quiet cover
of oncoming darkness, along with
some friends you discovered, but find
much too far away to hear you
now. And somehow,
you feel it isn’t
strange to be unafraid
of a light and palpable hold
upon your shoulder, because
of a familiarity so unconditional
as to flow from the very wellspring
of all things you are
or ever may have become.
But in time,
the abyss eclipses the intellect
and your senses begin to overturn, until
perchance,
your hand touches
the searching fingers
of a stranger, for
each to hold the other
in reckless shelter, and
persist on
making a way through
this night, the savage brush, toward
the sound of what
you imagine to be a running stream
at some unknown distance.

Suicidal Deities

grunge

As most
of the Gods of Grunge
keep killing themselves, it’s apparent
that the burdens
of regret and should-have-beens
weigh too heavy on hearts that carry them.
Yet, it doesn’t change
the feeling
that there’s nothing worth keeping
more than the weight of these chains
of being and remaining unchangeably
oneself.

Of Sights and Seasons

Of Sights and Seasons_

You tend not to notice until
you find some
places changed… some people missing..
that the skies remain just
as beautiful and whimsical, the clouds
gather and disperse
in astounding formations,
the twilit streets
are still illumined
by more and brighter lights,
the vagrant winds continue
to wander, and trees and branches
show their sway, their leaves
collect their dew
or dance to droplets of sudden rain,
as the city roars to perennial festivities.

 

The tides continue
to turn magnificently, to our
cold comfort,
as petals wither
and children grow to skeletons.