snow fire light thunder the hummingbird speaks
the peacocks have been here for all time just their beauty royal blue tears
heart desires stretching reaching for infinite nothing it seems
i stare the moon frowns at me a spotlight on my shame most gracious lady my eyes downturn
pain and mystery are beautiful holy at times demonic only at someone else’s pleasure
if He wept at His abandonment who then am i to complain
agonizing rainbow look me in the eyes roses die in mid December
that all of treasure’s soul lays bare the blood not on the spear this time but splattered all to see
that a twisted existence didn’t always weave and the past a few exceptions made
that leads me to this Maypole game where spirit and soul are sewn into the coat of many colors
to light the sky in flames of glory and my spark to soar on angels’ arms
for Hunter S
words less spoken 