The Poetry Of Angel

The Prospect is Puzzling

Eden has been spoiled
by an angry sun and
fading leaves hold to
the parched brown shaft
of a withering flower

the color has faded in
the blossom and dead
petals flutter to the earth

to say it gives nourishment
now is a paradox in the
abstract… Agnus Dei

for beneath the shadow
of its former glory
the ground is dry and
dying… and mirrors the
view of my existence

in one last effort to
contain the shape of
its last living moment
in the sun…lux aeterna…

for light may fiendishly
burn the timid soul
before fresh rain falls
through arid skies

Music surges in my ears
And fluid voices speak
Sempi eternam

Gray squirrels scamper
about oblivious to the
danger in the heat of day

and a tear flows down to
fill the empty cup

My heart lies panting
in pools of new water

I need only feed the
source of my dreams
to conger new grown
hope and renew the
promise of a tender

All power is mine,
indeed if I will
tend the garden
more gently…





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