This is a repost of a poem we did in February, back then it appeared on Chris' poem list, this time on mine :)
One night this darkness will end life with clouds in damp fog without stars and a moon dressed in tatters screaming at feet scratched on pebbles in low-tide rough water to sway one and stumble Maelstroms twist, turn and swallow fish in an icy-cold winterland with rickety wrecks Stranded with thundering crashes ashore leaving flotsam resentful on soggy sand The roar of firebolts raging around And the sky will fall in guarded shadows, streaks painted in dripping revelations, shades of nevermore patina eroding encrusted thoughts into gaping holes, swallowing what is left of the dream The artisan's hand glares down from the sky Gouache in thick streaks in tangerine rage A knife sticking out scraping clouds Unstable equilibrium shakes easel unnoticed Genius vision or prediction of doomsday When the unthinkable, unfathomable happens, in silent sunbeam glory a single bloom forms Tiny roots ruminate a desolate landscape, gently removing soil from fractured stone, caressing sorrows in springtime whispers Dark clouds now cast warming farewells as blue sky canopies float like streamers, singing in harmony with endless beliefs that, one night this darkness will end life, until dawn’s resurgence is reborn *** February 3, 2017 Copyright ©Chris Green and Darren White
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