Feeling around this darkness, alone
Except for the lasso of earthshine
All I have, are these imaginings
If I was whole;
The light would break through these craters of eyes
And the vastness of dawn would nourish
our friendship like the wildflowers
Rumi says “Submit to love without thinking, as the sun this morning rose recklessly extinguishing our star-candle minds.”
Pinhole Photograph from: I am not this body by Barbara Ess
I found the king in my sour patch kids.
Summoning me to him.
Inch by inch.
The patchwork of truth beneath his sweet release.
Matted and mired in the threadbare trails of my existence.
All my thoughts encumbered into one, like the great shadow occulting the sun.
Moments before the light links to the dark.
I know the iconic gestalt will not escape my mind.
Now darker, as the black spirals into the white.
The nightingale consoles all the day’s dissonance.
While the chaffinch closes his eyes as he rushes the earth.
Which hand from which god reached into the heavens?
To blot out the sun and cover us with black oil.
Stuck down with feathers and falterings that overcome one another.
Reaching across each contour that shifts and shivers in our temporary aphotic zone.
Treading water with the creatures of the lunar deep.
Beholding the moonshadow through the trees.
Images from Pinterest and Dark Souls III
Collaboration with Havoc and Consequence