Dusk (day 2158)

This is the spark that sets seed
A jubilant setting free
A sunset beyond every sea
With a new day the grain that grows.

And if each sign these clouds do point
Expose a pasture fit for rose
Should a foot that heals the earth
Lay thin dust that bitter burns?

Nay, each dusk a seat be found
To hold each glass, a little worn
A ritual many should be warmed
At last, sweet moon, a gray cocoon.

Lords Divine (day 1081)

For goodness – not –
Shall Lords divine.
Sweet melon nectar
Explicit: intertwine.

An eagle soars
With lengthy hearth
An eagle burns
As Pharaoh’s earth.

River’s dry
– A cracking grain –
To whither: dead,
Our fathers bane.

Of golden green
‘Twixt slender pains
Yell “Willow’s mixture”
Betrayal’s feign.

Yet heard – unspoke –
Gripped the sword
– A childless yoke –
Divine hoard.