FALSE PROPHET

LET IT SHOW

COMING OUT


A dark night, stars and moon hidden by clouds, until a breeze blows through and looking up he sees them peeking through - starlight trickles down, the shape of a cloud illuminated by moonlight - the night lights coming out.

TRIPPING MOONBEAMS WILD



here where the night creatures gather,
playing in the understory,
dripping through the tree branches,
running over creek and stone,
drifting and sly and less tangible than smoke,
dancing with the wind to play over the snow,
here is where tripping moonbeams wild roam.

FRISK

The warmth of the sun sneaks fingers into his pelt; luxurious.
He wakes, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and eager.
The others are already playing in the tall grass, eating the sweet shoots.
He runs and hops and skips to join them, laughter in his chest and joy in his bounding leap.

STAR-CLEAVER

A great darkness looms, pressing down against the light
it draws it in, does battle, both fighting to win
but the black is stronger - nothing escapes its grasp.
The light thrashes, losing pieces of itself
until all at once the darkness gives a final, mighty, yank
and sucks it in whole.

CRONE

she is old and sore and tired
bones creaking, joints aching
she bends her head tiredly, lifts her feet reluctantly
she is too stubborn not to, but it hurts
the young ones do not value their gifts
but she knows, for she is old now, but she was young once

LOVE IS A WINTER ROSE

his heart is breaking,
a soul-searing pain that splits him
and yet is a comfort all the same
a sharp feeling like winter ice
and a delicate bud of life growing in the middle
is this what love is?
he had no idea it could hurt so sweetly.

IN WINTER'S SHADOW

the ice begin to melt from trees, forming little puddles that freeze
and the crocus raise their heads up from their snowy beds
at night the air is bitter cold, by morning the chill has lost its hold
and new life stirs and wakens in the shadow of Winter.

COLD WINTER SUN

The sun is out to play today, but the cold is not deterred.
The sun glistens like melted honey over frozen snow-banks and iced over trees
playful and inviting it wants to play.
Yet winter is still in its prime, and those who venture out will quickly realize;
they should go back in where it is toasty and warm.

FATAL STRIKE

small, bright eyes,
soft, warm, pelt
round little ears.
a squeak, a thrash, it's over fast
a fatal strike in the night.

MY HEART TO BREAK

what love is there which is held back?
his heart is open - too open perhaps.
yet still, no matter the aches and pains, he bears it over and over again.
"It's mine, you see" he says when others caution him.
"I cannot love truly if I am unwilling to break it."

TREMBLING SIGHS

limbs entwined, the warmth of closeness
in the dark, heartbeats tangled
shared breaths, a lover's kiss

SALT MARSH

The river runs down from the mountain, cold, bright, and fresh
warmed by the sun, it flows faster, picking up little streams as it goes.
It spreads deep through the cypress and marshy wetlands
and there it meets the ocean, and tames it into something gentle.
A marshland of salt, and tiny jeweled crabs and bright, darting fish.
A home.

JELLYFISH DAYDREAMS

the waves whisper and caress
the tides pulling them ever onward
a constant motion of energy dictated by the moon's
backward, forward
the jellyfish drifts, helpless to the whims of its liquid universe
dreaming of light, and dark, sun and moon