Tuesday, September 27, 2011


sometimes it's a cliff, on the edge of sky
while daringly, i somehow become
full of grace

far below in the shadow of death
rocks play the telling roil
but step aside as deep i dive
swiftly through the cool deep
silent as smoke

it's here i find possibility
fat on the hope i wish i had

rivers of life channeled beyond the noise
fields of golden glory, far
beyond the blight that wakens
and children of a peaceful wisdom
far short, of where malice
is yet to be birthed