A Fiery Dance
Pale as a waxy moon of fiery madness,
Love groves and fox gloves wild,
White heat awash with sadness,
My serpent tongue repents, beguiled.
Such fragile understanding, distant, vague.
Hope upon nature's very spears,
Superceeded, rewritten, then engraved,
With the ushering whispers of unknown fears.
To know to fear, sometimes to fear to know,
A useless spiral of under sated suspense,
Innocence so unsuspecting of this icy blow,
Dancing free, unbound by future tense.
Light heralds the easy breathing of denied youth,
A foreign depth of misconception,
Intermingled with eagerness for truth,
And lain bare with needful deception.
All artifacts of the changeful wit of time,
The growth of unchained circumstance,
When simple faith is made sublime,
By the evolution of life's eternal dance.
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