PROVIDENCE SLEEPS

Paint the words in broad strokes across the page
backyard colors of mauve and gray
pull up close, scarlet and yellows
dark and light and mist in between

Black holes in the center of galaxies
Oh so precarious this perch we sow ourselves
Our own seeds planted in the land
I'll keep my place

Brush broad the strokes of color
ravage the pallette of its hues
Live, Love, Laugh
Do it again and again
Till logic throws up its hands

I need to breathe
Nebraska and Wyoming
ghosts play upon the plains
across the valley of double rainbows
within the marsh of gurgling grass

We just moved into Picses
overnight, with the snow and the cold
the fish still under the ice
Repentance as spring
unburies the pine boxes of regret

Against the windmills of Dutch tulips
Iris orchid hearts
I huddle in my barricade of barbs and flowers
Violets and scarlet butterflies stretch their wings

Oblivion would be a blessing
rather than face the abitrary truth
sometimes you have to face the wind
as much as it might bite your face

Stripped of all pretense
folded in desire
love unhandled
just there, like a blanket

Star plagued sky
Easter morn lillies
like children past the limits of time
travel through the crucible of sublime

Reviews

[Winter McPherson]

This is beautiful. Twists of nature, the galaxy and angst. Great write!