SPIRITED GIBBERISH
"SPIRITED GIBBERISH"
Curtained eyes droop, closing, cleansing, visions. Feathering sunlight. Splintering waked-vivid lashes dreaming of the day. Eyes concealing retreat from here, to there, to what once was, weightless pestilence, plumy blights. Wind-born, am I, are you, are they? They are all, that is, this day, until then. The here-after, the eternal, evermore, ceasing to end.
The sun’s high noon burn, midday life delighting indulgent nectar and poisons and berries, and hostile hide-outs. All, always, prayerful for sanctuary, pursuing salvation. Knowing nothing of a savior. Beasts entrusting the young to the wilds, wild-things, a wild thing-god, a thing, God, a god child, God’s child, in the middle dreaming wild.
Dusk sets the night, pyres for light. Chilling the fragile coos of fragile new marrow. Soothing-long, longing for soothing. Behold, a sooth-sayer begotten in the latter, an elder, lending cryptic scribbles, scrawling epistles. Enchant the ebon skies, dreams besotted by the corrupt, beyond the pale.
Prayers grasp at lucid kindles, sparking beacons, praise-dragged undertow. This display, playing age long into the moon-lit hours, into the starry night, night’s day, daydreaming. Dreams laying in waste, shouldering boasts, flanking fears. Pray, next for the embers to brighten the eyes sinking into the face of the darkness, shining light as we sleep.
Copyright © Mary Lynn Nakoneczny | Year Posted 2024
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