Stars and Swords

She sits, fated for stars and swords to cross.

In calm but frozen awe as blood tears from thorns lying upon her head.

“Stand,” sighs, the air snaking around her.

“Stand,” echoes, looming depths of dark patient clouds.

So she walks with the ushering weaves of grass beneath.

Past tangled allures of baneful roses that blind with brilliance.

To find her stride falter as darkness begins to weep.

Screaming along with wind, heard only by emptiness within, she staggers.

Eyes shut, her mind opens.

Soaring through voiceless storms merely to see a whisper, “RUN!”

Shrouded by nothing and all, she falls.

Patiently loving, fated for stars and swords to cross.

Ten Nine Eight Seven Six Five Four Three Two One

I woke up one afternoon

1:10

Troubled yet inspired

Waves of emotions cascaded up against my thoughts

I felt the need to write

And as I wrote, I remembered the now

The now that was now, the now that was then, the now that would be...could be...should be.

Listening to sounds filled with clear passion

I came to realize a collage of uncertainty and certainty

Uncertain of what would be and only certain of what should be, I felt like a fool

Thinking of such made me only laugh of my evident humanity

And then I noticed something

I am lost in a blur of vision, I am a speck of fog

An imperceptible raging chaotic fire that swirls without purpose

Despite my accepted confusion, I knew one thing

I am the untouched paintbrush of the methodical, ingenious, fanatical Artist.

Like a leaking storm, a wash of poetic language leaps from my soul

Exhaling thoughts, as easy and as hard as shedding tears

Dear Artist,

I know not, yet I know. Beset with so much and so little.

I turn to you realizing that you and I are one and the same.

1:30

Minutes have passed. And the now that was to be, is now then.

What should is what would

At ease and at peace, I’ve seen what I’ve sought

With that thought, I fought to cease to appease

Myself and I.