Tag Archives: rest

Winter is Not Far

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In the darkened forest of
Those below and those above,
Followed I am through the dead and rustling leaves.
Summer sun or autumn light?
All but forgotten where I might
Have awoken in the midst of those lost trees.
My only clue is the warm
Of the breeze that around me swarms.
Here something whispers: “Winter is not far.”.
There’s a break in the canopy
That offers no new sight to see,
Only the grey that stretches on and on and on.
My steps carry me no farther
The wind carries words from afar, her
Messages are seldom those of comfort, much less of wisdom.
Raindrops and a cold now herald
The days end; my easy path turned feral.
Just how cold and wet remains for me to be seen.
No shelter, no end, no rest,
I wander on, and do my best,
To stay on a straight path, and not become more lost.
With daylight now expired
I sit, my eyes so tired,
And hope when I awaken that the world will be a different place.
I awake without opening my eyes
I’ll not do so voluntarily, something else must pry,
For the rustling of leaves tells me something I ought not to hear.
Standing up and pushing on,
I tread paths where nothing belongs,
And an echo of a whisper repeats: “Winter is not far.”

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My Shallow Sleep

Shall he remain fallen cold, buried here?
The various pains of living follow him.
And waking up to a grey sky so clear,
A midday light beyond the moon grows dim.
They were followed here, this is nothing new.
They know better than this untrodden path.
Before them, those that followed, they were few,
Fewer still who returned. Dim: this light past.
After they will break as water on rock,
They will scatter as shadows in the light.
Here the new headstones do nothing to block.
Various pains drive residents to flight.
I’ll dream of things unspoken, rest undone,
In my shallow sleep gift under the sun.

Lioness

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Rest.
She sleeps.
Tired from the day, she’s still and cold.
Tired from the blood she’s carried.
Long life past, now she’s old.
Now far from demons she’s long buried.
No regrets, her own grown strong,
They’ll find a new grave to carry
Her to where she can rest from demons wake,
From the words of death she spake,
From what she carried for so long,
So her own to demons pacts
Would not be sold.
Or so I’m told.
She takes this secret to her grave.
The children know of what she gave,
But not of  sacrifices made.

Puppy Teeth

My struggle with the darkened arms
Of sleep,
The solstice of suffering.
Sleep holds me here, her black arms betray
A sense of woe and sorrow,
Dreading the hour I awake and abandon
My dreaming.
There, much like suffocating,
Pain is but a memory waiting,
Like so many lost puppies
That have followed me home.
This time a mistake:
I’ve given them names to take,
Sleep is no relief as I do not dream.
The puppies teeth are ships that sink
As my flesh becomes a sea.

Stationary

In an end unto our own
Tells not the knell for whom to toll
When endangered, runs from home
One forgets to secure the soul.
Up all hours, a sleepless night,
No rest until dawn, none till twilight.
There is none to be found, why seek?
It is as unreachable as the moons keep.
The ship that is sleep brings no rest
Though it ferries you to dawn,
The waves it rides, reveal at their crest,
You’ve been stationary in this ocean all along.

The Gap

I wait.
Until no longer must I gaze outward towards hallucinations of you.
Too often I pine and you’re not here.
Me away from you.
I hate the gap, I hate the distance.
And hate I must until I can see your face again.
Your love only fills the void.
Touch me.
Let me know you’re with me like words cannot.
I love you.
Until the earth embraces both our bodies and we eternal rest.
To my wife M. D. S. 

Weary Paws

On weary paws
Through stretched out days
Blood stained claws
To memory fades.
“No rest for the wicked”
An unfair sentiment?
Because he’s unrestful
Means he’s not innocent?
Onward he plods
Through wind and though rain.
Those looking down,
Unaware of his pain.
Unaware and uncaring
The crowd stares on.
Mountains cold and glaring,
Bear has been gone so long.
Gone with no place to rest.
His cave found empty
He sleeps. Hoping for the best:
A welcoming dawn to see.