Dreaming allusive, scattered threads of lost time,
the mirror displays enchanted visions of grand decay,
spiraling headlong, embittered tongues chomped with blunt teeth,
endless turmoil, we lose sight of paradise —
just beyond the horizon,
but always too far downwind,… carelessly left there by children.
The painted picture
listens long enough and whispers none of its secrets,
esoteric, indulgent, and “out-of-his-tree” —
I jump aloft to catch the wind, yet,… to my surprise,
I never left the craggy earth that grabs at my feet.
I question It,.. for this fair sky beckons Me. And thunderous,
the reply, comes swift to my ears.. to gnaw rotten cankers in
my resolve, devouring my very urge to fly.. exiting the scene
with the spotlight upon a hunkered form… crying for a loss
he cannot remember, but one I can never forget.
Tempest Zephyrs.. hear my voice, does it pierce the clouds?
Does it? Aloof, you stolidly watch with crystalline precision.
Not that I less wish to endure, or shall I shrink from pain…SPEAK!!
Imbue me with the wisdom,.. the sacred names of
holiness.. hazard your chosen song upon my filthy head — I shall
prove worthy to your task.. LOOK! See how sullen tears furrow
the soil upon cheeks that could be your own.. weep for Me.. sour
droplets of hopeful bounty — left to be harvested with
the New moon.
Our Father,.. who art within us all.. Hollow be thy Name. Come
Joshua, spare a small glimpse of The Prize, I espy you behind the corner —
hoarding your treasures. And pious sorrow,.. learned
at the tender age,.. supernal, everlasting Grace — contending
with the human Spirit,.. and with clear visage reveals, this
mortal passage through injur’d lands.. I ascend the Hill..arming
myself to bear the cause, the right, The Burden! Lend me your
strength, kind Joshua,.. Father of fathers.. let the Film be
removed from my straining eyes,.. I need to see,.. I have to.
As my breath escapes, in ragged harmony with each rise and fall of
this battered temple, my thoughts soar. Given all things fair,
but fairest this of all gifts,.. I see now,.. I am bone and flesh.
Flesh and Bone. I am myself and none other. Light no longer seeks
me in the dark night of each day, I am draped in the fragrance of
life — touching me with sublime patience Fullness reached,..
Despair plays outside,.. this body too old for such playmates.
-Eric W. Hinton