the crying birds

2012 meets me with surprise, 2012 meets me with words, 2012 meets me

the crying birds

sung for the fallen one

that dropped from the moon’s eye

dressed in plain clothes

their wails filled the morning sky

dreams meet dawn’s first glance

like the fallen wings on my windowsill

Dimly sensed thought

We sit beneath the woody sky

Watching the light slowly fade

The flowing golden thread

Drifts towards the night

And my brother stands

Sharing whispers of

Moving mountains

That he can’t shift

Dusty flames dance

Before us

And we spin blue bottles

Sending shards of darkness

Into the winters breath

And flickers of light into our

Shivering hearts

We wait for the cracks to open

And the first cleansing

To wash

Away the lingering dream

The Night

Stay out of my shoes

For I will stumble

Through the pocketful of gems

That only grow in the

Darkness