from THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND
A Circlet of Thorns
A Circlet of Thorns
A shadow oval
wrought of twisted gems
Wreathed with
plaited thorns deep, thick
Gathering together
the offence of every age
Hide my sight behind the canopy they flee
Gems these
harbingers of my writhing pain
Interlaced with rain
in a healing of oddments
Centered inside
the darkest darkness of knives
The never
comprehended rainsight of heaven
I close my
seeking eyes I see the oval clearer
The closed
gatherings of piercing gifted bits
Their eyes
hindered in many lined followings
They will cast
away the best part for the good
Sentences lifted
up of many other cut fingers
They cannot
figure my inside gifted sightings
All of vain
billows and the driftwood castings
They ride upon
the sill of their rejected waves
Always torn apart
their refusals convey light
But hid they see
it not, they turn the other way
Unlit they pull
the swiftlight and find only dirt
Only the willing
few go on through the thorns
No comments:
Post a Comment