Like in a long drought
sudden unusual darkness
wind kicks up the dust
and thunder is approaching
flashes in the clouds
run for cover
or soak up the coming
of the storm outside the door.
Here there is a sentiment
that tortured emotion exercises
it sees the possibility
yet dwells in the midst of greed
seeking isolation it is told
its presence needed
and this holy grudge
meloncholy.
Absent in solutions prayer had won
alone bad son
music rises into the outer dimension
seen had been plain as day
rain comes again
and this pain.
Like regaining solidarity
hair getting long
flute in ragged condition
to play to the audience
the grip keeps sliping
and the wind is raging
small floods make the way
down the weeded paved roads.
When she can't be found
alone in riddle I sit
get on in business
to maintain this holy temple
with all excess baggage
the downpour washes
the grass downtrodden
and wine stains the clothes
with plastic and cotton shares
holding the facade that divides.
Grave situation seeking silence
upon the fallen stones in rhythm breathing
all narrow passages of air music hearing
all veal oil I in pasts of profit screaming
hyper vent restrictions of information forming
a barrier and a breakaway society sad
and adhere I place my offering on the altar
hoping in life sustaining returns and imaginings.
