And When The Minions Spoke

I watched it cautiously… this omnipotent layer of placenta between winter and I slumped over the Ley-lines in thick imperialist resin, counting the countless days between lives like some devious watch on a melting tree; untouchable and empowered with oceanic gravidity. From the walls and eye of a lone canyon it jawed new clouds with a petro-glyphic interpreter:

 “I will never fit within the breast of your struggles nor allow our light to fade; I am the wrath that tears away the hand from need.

I am freedom 

Mindless thirst...Want,

Writhing inside the you

I am steel

In Holy color of sky

Molting under desert ground

I am the question stalked by quest

The prayer answered and the gift of unbroken horse in cage -

Animal of the hand”

I watched it cautiously until it spoke cold of war,  then I spread wide my arms to bring down the will of summer, impatient for a rise.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

I am freedom 
Mindless thirst...Want,
Writhing inside the you
I am steel

Now this is my type of poetry deep and wit... I'm huge fan of Jim Morrison and coming on your page give me a freedom to sing The End deep in my mind... Great write

[Little Whisper]

This profound piece is so elegantly penned. It's that light that can be seen beyond the struggle that gives me faith in the rise much worth the wait.

[Priscilla Sayers]

I love this piece. As I too wait, impatiently, for Summer.
Your words flow smooth as silk, strong as water.