May 13, 2020

• beyond time

  

   

   

  i  lean my head on dawn's wind
  and my hair spreads out along my arm
  in my frail, worn sleeves
  that are raveled at the cuff
  i lay my head on my imagination

  and i can see you there
  in front of your window
  i know you are thinking of
  some other history before your life
  the wandering and slaughters in founding an empire
  or a nation or freedom

  the wind comes from a golden sky
  but here a cold forest in black ink
  regulates my hermit's heart...
  you lay your head on my arm

  and i can hear the burning and downfall
  of cities, centuries, hearts..
  weapons abandoned on plains of morning smoke
  and a boat quietly waiting

  to bear us to an island
  beyond time and bloody history

  • 6:08 am
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