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Smoky Woods

Beside the shadows, 
there hides a truth
it touches my soul.

Slightly we tip and fall into our breath
As we weep and are born again.

A tender silence veils our world
and guides the wind that sweeps my brow.

The genesis of nightly rhythms
guide my journey into the dark
desolate land no longer estranged.

A bonded nature watches 
as a distant dance collides
moving the wise, secret of the question 
and a whisper remains.

Glide with me now, 
visions of pharaohs
creep to enrapture the curious dove
swimming to meet a reflection of peace
what the hunter does not see...

She listens and falls 
somewhere a watchful eye shivers and moves
and the smoky woods continue
Despite the cold.

Tomorrow

It's late.  In a room surrounded with little but a dim red light and silent whispers hiding in the corners waiting for you to open your eyes and your soul to me to show the everlasting comfort of fastened arms around a heart noble and true not to lie but to understand the necessity of the rhythmic  movement created by the created powers of illusion we perceive in middle sight accompanied by the wind that brushes our sanity is in correlation with our sister the ocean can feel our pain our sorrow our need for the healing of many years of war it happens forever never existed without much help from our mother the trees do not sway but in the windy cities with lights from created energy that transformed to waste by trying to squeeze blood out of rocks who held no water to their minds will never see beyond the sight of the blind man who has passed death into tomorrow. 

© 2001 Stella Cogno

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© 2001 Stella Cogno

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