a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

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Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Moment

there was a desert
where all the sands of time
lay heavy in disinterest
I knew it's vastness
I lived it

the winds,
when they blew
were a bellow of hoarseness
from parch
and the noon sun
in laser sear
scorched my child's skin
into fissures
of remorse

I wore them
like a marshal's badge
but my bullets
shot only rust

the mischief moon
fell cold and heavy
shard like
on my weep laden sleep
while the scorpion
layed his mark
in mourning trails

and the thirst
that played percussion
knew only one beat
as an echo
in a house of mirrors

as i trod these barren dunes
my tracks hid themselves
in sadden shame

but one day
in my journey
through this maze
of no relief
I felt a breeze
stir my heart
into tentative hope

it led to a door
that led to a shore
which opened to forests
and rivers and streams
beyond purple mountains
overlooking deep green seas

I laughed
as a drunken loon
and drank
til my heart floated free
and my bullets
fired life
as quicksilver

and love, too
grew neath pines
around this oasis
of crystal quench

but when again,
and much too soon,
the seas turned to sand
and my drink to dust
when once again, the noon sun
blistered my exposed heart to blacken ash
i turned like a top in a sadists maze
searching for a door I'd known
or even the door's cool breeze
but found nothing
save the barren yesterday

moments are like that
that's why they're called moments
that's why we keep trodding
because the door
is a mirage
only motion can find
and only once,
maybe twice