Howl I pause at the hour when only the very tips of the trees wear light. Wisps of color sweep over and whispers of promise rise to spirit the trees, stir me, kindling something, sometimes the beast in the uneven corners of my mind. There is no need for words but some slip out, fleeing into the night, begging to be whole, to be water, to be a universe, to erupt, but mostly to be loved. I am less brave when I believe a god might be listening. Enough snow and wind and these bones burn and I know I am alone, breaking. No one can hear the cracking of faith over the sad static of everyday failures. Family can see the moon bleed in my eyes, reflections of fraying power. Song to the night, to the soft sky, song of my soul, the me that few can see, in its echo I can do anything, everything. I seek to change the world, I beg to share this moon.
Posted on: Fri, 24 Jan 2014 02:54:44 +0000
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