In the coming of shadows
of spider's legs
I'm here.
Put away your fancy things—
I'm here.
No creature can escape
their dreamless fate,
My kingdom's vast,
blue-black bruised sky of faith
For wishes aren't so plenty when you're dead
I'll help you make a peaceful soul, instead.
We'll toil until the hour of the gods
to make your spirit free, with mind now gone.
But there's that whirlwind blasting down my door—
those pearly gates and angel's wings
lie broken on the moor
The fear of me has cooled your loving hearts,
to be near to me is the rot of autumn's art
and if you really seek for greater truth
the books are wrong if they bring you the noose
the books will lie if they complete your sorrow
For I am Love—and if we meet tomorrow
I'll hold you gently, rock you in my arms,
and let you weep for clocks you couldn't keep.
We'll walk through earthsea,
diamond bright and deep,
the snake and eagle both will give you alms.
I'll take the candied orange from your eye
Bathe you in water pulled from every
planet's rolling tides
Now rest—no need to worry, flee or roam,
Be still, sweet child, for you have come back home.
YOU ARE READING
Lives Collide
PoetryDo I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes). - 'Song of Myself,' Walt Whitman It's hard to know sometimes who you're meant to be. And that's kind of okay. One day I feel like a witch, another like...
