The Fugue

Jun 10, 2024
1 min read

I feel now the great dreaming

Warm and regal mantle when all the world

become a mist of mere potentialities

All crashing corridors and winding ways

Who walks my feet I cannot say

Or where or when I'll wake again

Pushing, at times, to strain the webs

Til lungs are filled with honey

Or graceful ghost adroit

All eyes and ears and timeless halls

The spiraling of the road

Recent Posts

See All

Metanoia

Weather comes and goes And I its patient Witness Born only by the shifting winds Or the slowly dancing stars Yet something in the middle distance stirs Singing the changing of the seasons come A

Ceasefire

This morning I woke up bleeding Again this Aged war Shallow breaths, clawing trenches in my face The dog came down to sleep Wrapped tight against himself He'd rather be near And cold My hands build a

Eucharist

once for years I asked god What to do with this love in my heart How to tend these burns To pluck these thorns once a priest from a faith not mine Said god comes not To slay suffering but to fill it w

Comments