Glimpse (I/S)

 To sing/say what a moon child must 

a ronin is an arrow flung deeper inside 

where the rhythm writhes 

And rides as an 8 legged horse running a course through vein 

(Mother lode) 

Ceiba-sighting the last days of a genesis almost come 

Advertisements

Not Found (I/S)

  
Lost, guided by 
Doubt clenching 
the heart 
like a skin being beat-called real 
by shades dreaming , 
A stream mirrors Itself,here below fire 
Grows beneath Ceiba swaying to an aria 
of a black moon Shining my midnight
of 2nd sight 
Still Singing stillness salted with weariness all of which writhes beneath phoenix wing

GATEWAY-Ceiba Link Up (I/S)

  
Her roots tastes what the crown does sipping Silence 
Sending song into the skull
Trepanned 
to understand the flow down below 
where Wings unfold to roll the unknown. 
Soul & sword melt to fire and feather 
The Night inside too violet, its bloom 
Bleeding into the Nothing, what tracks?
Here the traceless leaves moon-son faceless