to: Innocence

.15 - 3.18

the lost song

As a young boy, I wandered late at night
Under covers, quilt, and glowing stars
In a forest wild of a wilder sprite
Sitting on a rock and playing a pipe
I sat in the clearing of a tree ring
Under the sprite’s beating music spell
And it taught me how to make six holes sing
A lost song
I can’t remember.

I still feel the rhythm late at night
Of everything but the wishful aching
For a wooded haunt I’ve now forgot
Where my trapped dreams reflect back to me
Warped by icy rapids in moonlit streams
Whispering songs
I can’t remember.

a lone creature

As this mist descends deep into dark valleys drear
I spot a lone creature in the fir’s shadow’s near
A sad song he did weep for his days now unsure
His lost past held in fear, thoughts he could not enter

As he sang his sad song, the forests’ moan did leap
A chorus full of tears about what he must reap
Shadows can’t cover wrongs, but it did hide his tears
Your story I will keep if you’ll tell me right here

escaping the phoenix

i.

mist hides in chasm’s edges
parallel to narrow ridge
I walk trying to leave but
never leaving the lurking
phoenix waiting for me to
tire and turn to retire
hoping to recover
from scars aching deep
only to discover
bleeding wounds cutting deeper
leaving a scented track
for what follows behind
I’ve seen it before
and fought it
confronted the beast
and lost to it
because despite victories
my enemy that’s part of me
rises from its ashes again
to greet me at a later date
on a narrow ridge I can’t
escape

ii.

you rise again from ash
that should have blown away
poised to strike at
my heart that’s past afraid
now beaten till beatless
fractured frozen pieces
but no one runs forever
from dust, so I rise
to chasm’s edge
and I fall
into colder mist
feared now less than
what swoops behind then
dissipates on razor crags
gleaming snow tainted red
(not mine)
chronicles of struggles past
(of mine)
while wind’s draft draws me
up in gravity’s face
no match for deeper
magic and it’s misty
embrace

monotony

These clouded eyes were
Not always jaded
But filled with gazing
Child-like wonder
Of night skies that
Shine for rehearsal
Again, not tired
Of the repeating
Waiting for me to
Wake from my sleeping
To join in this repeating

journey home

Over grassy swards and knolls deep
Where earthen beast have fallen asleep 
Winged birds swift above it fly
Straight to forests dark and firs high

Dark clouds bring shadows and tears
Giving life to wide-eyed fears
That drink sorrow from swollen springs
Deepening roots for blossoming spring

So far from home, stars shine
Lighting paths through leafs of time
Wooden sounds echo over the wind
Leading you back to where you began.

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2 Comments

  1. I really appreciate “the lost song” it feels like something relatable and sentimental. I should have probably started reading your blog sooner…gives me that kind of feel.

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