Hope and faith – uneasy finds.
Tall are the weeds of our mistakes.
In a time of final lines
Clockwords tick at sandlocked states.
Dance and sing to mirrors of my soul.
Lay my gifts at their closed doors.
And a ray of light, escapes, consoles,
Zig-zags to my feet along the floor.
Pearl strings opalesce in shadowy stillness.
By your windows I release my spells,
Runes and rhymes first written in vermillion,
Birdwords carry to your souls’ wells.