Behind the broken clouds
The moon resumes a light
Deep within the woods
Underneath the sky
The underbelly coat of the wolf
Throws us out into the crosshairs
Aiming fearfully taking shots
Descending to the lake
I rest my head to think up thoughts
Of how to be clear in the moment
Not rushing out to the sea
The night birds chirping
Chatting up the frogs to sing
The dawn is cooing round
A corner where the sun
Will soon ignite along the edge
Mirrored pool at the base
Of every tree that looks upon
All the shadows that will be blankets
Resting over sticks and bones
Home to old residential thrones
Nothing is definite in this world
Where there is success
There is surely demise
And who draws the lines?
Obviously these are lies
Who says that rock is on our side
Who declares that the earth
Belongs to any of us
Dead or alive
© GÄ
Poétique 