WRITTEN TO YOU
I’ll write You briefly.
You who are burdened
setting skyward crescents
and pelting the mountains
with violent white winds.
Barking songs of the snapping pine is
orchestrated by Your magnificent machinery;
and measured out by Your apparatus
and nestled into eternity.
Suffering a measured murder formation.
In a habitat of:
found apples and idle, noiseless bees.
You have turned me over.
Your noctilucent eyes
glow in the darkness of night
and drill me.
My viscous marrow spills
beyond the city’s concrete carapace.
Below all the earth that slightly slithers
with primitive life in the
magical darkness of the substratum.
To the sunless prehistoric parts.
My troglodytic, somber soul calls to You.
--Published in Samsara