The material contained within this page is copyrighted property of the author and may not be copied, reproduced, or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes.
I have a song stuck in my throat
my nightingale once sang it to me
now I sing to her
She called two nights ago
again inquiring if I'm alright
“Yeah of course. Never better.”
She knows the truth so
I sing to her
'cause I'm so far away
and she sounds so close
across the wires
then she cries
and I wish my song were Silence
Along the wayward path
Long have I traveled along the wayward path.
Ankle-twist and down I fall again.
Mud-streaked arms and feet snapping branches as I go.
Sharp scent of decaying leaves beneath me
Once my heart loved enough to care
for my Self and Pride.
for I released the selfsame heart into wilderness
losing so much more in the process
than simply my way.
I do not belong here
among grating brick walls and
My eyes reflect the stars
shimmering in obsidian night
and the scent of the forest
is heavy on my skin
His ten tiny fingers grasp my one
Maiden no more - now Mother!
singer of lullabies
to soft eyes
holder of futures
in two trembling arms