A Quiet—calculated—Corridor—
Where Trust—was led astray—
The Smiling Guest—became a Gate—
That opened—Night—to Day—
She moved—as if in Lantern’s hush—
A Courtesy—refined—
Yet underneath—an Architect—
Of Ruin—pre-designed—
For Innocence—she Scouted—out—
As one might choose a Thread—
To stitch—another’s Shadow—on—
A Child—uncomforted—
Her Duties—never spoken—were—
But Whisper—serviced—Need—
Till Justice—slow—assembled—Proof—
Of Purpose—turned to Deed—
The Gavel—fell—like Winter’s Stone—
No Petal—intervened—
A Name—once dressed in Silk—became
A Record—cold—Serene—
And now—Confined—her Seasons turn—
All Windows—facing In—
The Echo—of her “Quiet Tasks”—
Reverses—into Sin—
So Memory—keeps its Ledger neat—
No matter—what is known—
For Truth—though late—arrives—intact—
And claims—its rightful Throne—
One nation
Two crowned Kings
War and peace
Three languages
A million enemies
One that alone stands
With no signals they strike
Snatching the treasures of the other two meek languages
But with sad eyes as one uncomforted,
They fold their arms and weep
And wearied with sorrow and moaning
For sins no bleating victim can atone,
They seek help abroad
And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed.
Black were their garments
With faces red as stone
And at the feet of this nation was marked a broken stone
Which sent up dove-like lilies
And terror screams for weeks
Now at their sight, my heart bleeds lit up in flames
I went out walking to the woods today
I saw some canvas cities there
And many empty houses along the way
With yards overgrown or bare
And some building still in a heedless way
I met the paradox of man's dismay.
I went out walking to the woods today
To find the road not taken there
But following fire and cloud turned away
To wipe my friend's uncomforted tear
And watch the jays and the magpies play
All around our descending disarray.
I went out walking to the woods today
To escape the cities cold despair
But from earth's predicament could not turn away
The sunlight withered gardens everywhere
And there the road not taken made of clay
God with us amidst sins decay.
Life is slowly pinning me down,
sharp shards of attachment attack by mobility.
Treadmill of progression that strengthens me to stay.
as my legs stagnate my mind grows.
I guess I could move forward,
towards,
ahead,
but I am not ready to leave it all behind.
You’ve clipped my wings; the circumstance of you has pulled me unwarily from the sky.
Into you lap of comfort, where I remain uncomforted.
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