Deliverance

on the edge of tomorrow
my breath burst into silvery stars &
swelled
to touch the moon’s reflection
in a single tear
that sprang from wonder.

in this muted affection
you can still perceive
a slight trace of home,
calling endlessly.

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Anthology

I could be
a moment, tipping
over the edge of space
to fall
and never fall
again.

I could be
a letter, lost;
curving,
curling black on fading white
where words are left
unspoken.

i could be
a trace, sighing
on the shores of nowhere, turning
with the tides
as faces
change.

I could be
a life, swaying
on the thin line between
high heaven & rock bottom,
placing careful steps
in worn out shoes.

I could be
this world, unscathed
and never fully grown, as ages float
among the clouds & leave
the faintest kiss
on greying hair.

I could be
whole
& scattered all the same —
but in your arms
I simply
am.

42.

Hatchnumbers

4ever we see(k)
e(igh)ternity’s head stand
& ONE tied
to the 5-pointed star;

 water

earth                      fire

 air            ether

is that really
all there is?

if 1and6 is me, i need another one of these ~
for 2getherwemake3,
but that’s a different story.

“What do you say, Valenzetti?
Are we Lost,
hitchhiking the Galaxy?”

… but the answer is always
42.

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… a rather cryptic one for Laurie Kolp’s prompt about numbers over at dVerse.
Hope you enjoy nonetheless!
What’s your number? Come and join us at the bar!
photo credits: images3.wikia.nocookie.net

Lead the Way into the Wild

lead the way into the wild ~
etch flowing paths into my feeble heart;
teach me the chords to nature’s truthful sound;
to keep still, when silenced; bound to life.
untie my legs and draw me out to walk,
to find courage within, through gentlest touch.

miraculous; simple touch
revives parched dreams; finds stray hope, running wild.
rivulets of souls mingle as we walk,
to swell; with rawness, engulf weakened heart
and flood; waves’ tongues returning fragile life
to be cradled, gingerly; safe and sound

with these brittle bones, un-sound,
from solid stone to stone we hop; we touch
freedom’s sweetness, to coalesce with life.
find the fountain; youthful, deep pool of wild-
ness; cleanses, with ease, recovering heart
and mends weary bones, now destined to walk

nature’s call, perceived while walk-
ing; earth’s untamed presence, captured in sound ~
bittersweet song, unleashed to pierce the heart,
rises, in delicate tunes; tempting touch ~
the zenith; music, alive in veins, wild;
joyous ~ a glimpse at the meaning of life

strong, steady hand unfolds life;
now, at its fullest, and proudly i walk,
find serenity in this wayward wild.
whole now; the gift of my own voice, my sound
resonates, rewards me; i reach and touch
my soul; translucent, sister to my heart.

and through pulses of the heart,
the one, universal language of life,
we are united; led by spirit’s touch.
from valley deep to highest peak we walk,
among legends; set out, seeking the sound
the haunting rhythm, the call of the wild.

heart’s steady beat guides, wherever we walk;
through life, encouraged by ancestral sound;
by purposeful touch, reborn… in the Wild.

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… a Sestina (hard work, argh!), inspired by the Iron Poets and linked to dVerse Poets Pub for OpenLinkNight. Doors open at 3pm EST… bring a poem and join us at the bar!

Nameless

when the sky
turns milky-white
and our bodies
are nothing but
cancellous shells
with thrashing limbs;
we will be
Nameless.

… and in the books
of history
yet to be written,
we will be known
as those
who were
too presumptuous
to follow
the universe’s
well-intentioned call.

after all these years,
we still
haven’t learned a thing.


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photo credits: kosmos2012.hu-berlin.de