They Shot Beams

Quite a few of them tried rather fervently To reach the light that hangs in bows Sent sideways perversely Through shadows of mist-like moonbows. Or like a sundream cascading down memories They’d trap in their heart’s chest-like the irony of the lion Loving the lecherous acts of temporary reveries, While believing and denying the truth of their carrion. Like the lambs of our lives, the ancients walked with their lips From the caves to the clouds they sung their pain Turning self to others and rocks to ships They gave us a sweet emptiness that had no name. They shot beams of shades of truth and fire cries And sung the leaves at night their stars and knelt grass With bugs that served us plain through bark and breeze Tries hard to not see the discrepancy between the moment one passes And the moment one has to pass.