work in progress, yo

It radiates upward
Singularity
Light digging through to
Spark followed by the branch, your fingers
It arrived, but cut off...
Clean
The nature of the glow
Descends in plates, in ships, in kings
In a density so dark

Pick

Surprisingly, admirably
With clenched teeth and broken arms, I brave
Your meadows, embrace the warmth
Your streams, in vein
Current slows, its contents spilled
Over the edge of a cold black stone
The chisels speak
Its form revealed, but it does not end here
Floats upstream

Intronomy

I built the mountains, you chewed the land
My landscape; the model of a hand
You spread life thin, a distant place
I drew your holes; in time, a space
Raised arms (I'm) higher in disbelief
We wrote her language on a leaf
The point was drawn, dipped pen to land
You searched for point, you found but sand
Was asked for peace, ask not your brothers
Was searched for truth, search not the others
For what you seek through spit-out land
Is but an imprint of my own hand

awe

an exercise in discerning cessation
an expected attempt at the impossible
an enjoyment of something radical
a minor encounter with
the longing for and appreciation of
an inevitable realization in suffering
finite
not benevolent, just, generous, moderate, sincere
awe

there is love in you

Keys...
Which are you hitting?
I don't think you're real
But that doesn't mean you have to stop
You put things in and three weeks later they come out brand new
Decrepit
But who's to say that's not its purpose?

Name

Upon the hill
In the house you built of stone and snow
Before your death
I will come to you bearing words of cold and spite
You will speak of the sun and stars and how they illuminate my skin
I will tell you that you are old and frail
That night I will burn your body and spread the ashes amongst the dead leaves
You will hope to grow into a tree
But I will know that if it is so
Every last branch will be cut from your core
And the sharp pines that were once your fingers will no longer scar the ground you once ruled.