I.	Creation

A soul such as mine
am I such a thing
to be so markedly special
in a world indifferent and cruel.

I chased a light shooting up toward the heaven
   and was bathed in the dying glow of a sleeping sunset.
A ray so pure and straight it sprung from the ocean
   like a beacon keeping guard where departed souls slept.

A life as mine but pales
   in this glow of the evening sun,
breaking from the clouds as a voice which wails
   harkening the world to a coming judgement begun.

The waters are drying as the oceans run empty
   The pull of the waves no longer as full with each rising tide,
in slowness remains deep serenity
   a gentle unchanging movement soft as the caressing hand of a lover’s solitude.

What peace and grace I found favour to gain
was forfeit under the face of folded mountains
for what lies under the quiet bays 
tied to a force across eternity
moving with the hand of destiny
With the slightest of tremors this life comes to calamity
laying waste to all that memory could remember
and when time comes all lie in its tide
So I prayed to stay like the wildflower
firmly planted in rock and sand by the mountainside.
But the wind ran against my back
and drowned my voice for the wilderness to take.

II.	Reservoirs

Let my thoughts run toward abandoned vexes
   and march to the still sound of my heart.
Let my tracks soften in the hard glare of the sun’s axis
   and whisper comforts of joy to settling dust.

Let my heart find redemption
on roads travelled toward salvation
but not finding the grace of god

Let the moon quake
   to split the ocean into pieces.
For no body of water will wake
   holding life no more for species.

A fiery death, a dry death
for the vanishing treasures
of the world’s last reservoirs

Let my soul sing a poet’s song
   for its slight death on the birth of each morning.
Let my sorrows shine under the shadow of the moon’s gong
   where they dwell under the ocean’s mourning.
Let my joys blend with the unending river of time
to meet sadness and know where its fountain is mould
Let my mind’s wandering roam free or lost to dive
in the wilderness of the desert to learn the mirage of its own making
And let my dreams and worries rest from sleep
free from burdens of ill desire I no longer keep
For I have known and lost the treasures of the world
in the in the palms of a boy who did not live past five.

III.	A poet’s song

Who has seen the winged chariot which rides from heaven
with wheels of flame streaking across the oldest hills and valleys
Who has wept were an unknowing oceans still lies
whose gentle feet have come to be broken

Who has seen the great rush of people 
stomping heaven and earth alike doomed to a fate beyond destruction
Who has known the dawn of summer turned futile
when all seasons end to great new life

Who can tell me when the longest of ages
begun to vanquish the last of dreams and hopes
And who can tell me of the world which remains
when we cease to breathe and fade from existence

So tell me of the floating suns which danced on frozen water
like angels once among us sent to mete out retributive violence
For what wings are swifter as the flight of daggers
hailing fire and brimstone as carelessly as the death of time

Who taught me the words to listen to the song of my heart
to know the truths felt in the oldest bones of life
but to lack the courage to stand and fight for it
Was it kindness which taught me to live in what I hated
was it hope rotten turned to lies
or love which stayed anger in the face of pain
What was it which made me disown my heart
and when did I learn to betray the truth under my skin
I looked at mother father grandmother siblings to ask
who taught me to love without being seen
to care without being felt
What world have you bequeathed unto me

IV.	Lost

I long search visions of the hollow shadows of your faces 
seeing salvages of a dying redemption
hearing vestiges of a lost salvation
touching remnants of a destroyed creation
in the darkest pits of life
In my heart I longed to be far from a life so free
Free to the careless whims of exploration
free from recompense and consequence
Free to wonder and inhale the breadth of life
free from invention and the capacity to exhale the world anew
A dreaded sun, a consequence of last ambitions and desperate hopes
a seeming benevolent gift of life, here I was a sacrifice born

A journey travelled to a distant star across a hundred eternities with heavy sorrows
where one’s heart is stretched so to stir the darkest clouds in the deepest gallows
Mourn for what things the world might repent for across a thousand fires I will not tread
even the wind refuses the songs of lament for it is taboo to speak with the living dead

Whispers of gallantry and shimmers of nobility
fill the night air with tales of a time before
Joy fades in the seasons of a dull and monotonous background noise
love remains dreary in a vanishing world
Hope escapes through the cold folds of summer 
and trust dwindles as the fall of leaves through autumn
By all means sing a ballad for a forgotten world
these songs will be the only comfort
for an agonising dry season to come
So tell your children to abandon their names
the future they know will no longer call out to them

V.	My Body’s Prayer

Preacher told my parents to pray for gratitude 
for the things I don’t know I have in multitude
To pray for peace I have not yet found
for trust and hope unbound

Wisdom for the insight you are yet to glean
   and patience for the wrath which will fall from heaven.
Pray your children have courage on the roads never bean
   and travel across the worlds you dreamed but never spoken.

May they find light in your soul’s delight 
and strength to bear what you saw in your deepest fear
May their bodies grow faith to hold truth 
which comes with the bondage of the passing of heritage

Let the clothes they wear for the consequences they bear shed to know the evil which lingers to wilt new bones away
Let them run from the form of things which have shaped the mirage of humans chasing myths and shadows, outstretched by fears, unspoken by tears, lingering in their hearts like dreams from childhood

May their bones absorb what is impossible for words to describe
to understand what terror means without being destroyed by its horror
Let them know the agony which rose to speak its name
and the call of a hope which flowered where fear could not climb
Pray their minds be as broad as horizons and deep as the oceans
to know truth of things to come and be
To know forewarning in the marrow of your bones
just as they feel your presence in their mind’s wandering worry
Pray your children welcome rest before it finds them
to learn the strength to carry 
the burden they share in knowing your mind
May these truths not overwhelm
and be as clouds across an unending sky.