In these dark times
We need some smiles
Happiness defiles
The bitter heart
Always the slingshot
Along the creaks
And cracks
To the doorway
Of a pulse
That is stepping
Over the chords
Like a melody of grass
Rustling on our cheeks
Rolling down the
Hills of our childhood
Building a birdhouse
Out of alder wood
And dreams
Each therein branch
Broken off gifted
When we ask
The forest to
Let go of this
Mysterious
Bastard chain
Of bleak events
Wherein sunrise
Opens up like
Dawn regards the
Clouds without
Superstition
They are affixed
As hope wears
Tassels on our garments
Symbolizing each
Their separation
From the nations
Built around them
As a holy people
Would be if sacredly
Where with heartfelt
Communion upon when
We kissed the hands
Of one another
Familiar strangers
Eloquently
© GÄ
Poétique 