Storytellers

storytellers we are;
writing stories
with fingers of water
on barren shores
of a restless ocean;
swept by fancies
of a roving wind

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Restless-1

nothing stops
not one moment
ever pauses
for me to grasp
in my covetous hands

and so no more
will I give them names
no more will I seek
to hold them close
sitting by the wayside
I will watch
the nomads on
their restless journey

265

watching

nothing stops
not one moment
ever pauses
for me to grasp
in my covetous hands

and so no more
will I give them names
no more will I seek
to hold them close
sitting by the wayside
I will watch
the nomads on
their restless journey

263

Dawn-2

pundits say
in blackness
of the hour before dawn
gods awaken 
and walk the earth
all mortal prayers
granted

and
in that very hour
sorrows restless
through the night
fall asleep
exhausted

263

silence 2

silence swamps
swallowing words
turbulence finds
home within
peace gently
quivers

262

Sorrow

we never know when
sorrows buried deep
grow long roots
reaching 
into the bottomless source
of nourishing spirit
love blossoms scarlet
on branches dark-hued, twisted.

262

love

if you must love
be the pool
of midnight waters
hold the shimmering distant moon
on your breast
love that which cannot
ever be yours
let yearning crack
your hardness
into a million shards
and you will find
sweetness rising
unbidden to your lips

for love which can be
grasped and eaten
leaves nothing
but the bitterness
of the inedible core

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