Hark!

I took the day and moved it forward. Heard the call
and moved the pawn of self: Onward to the centered
fold of now.
Checkmate evaded, castled home spared and
bishop triangulated, I ride the wild horses
in tandem and jump the barbed wire fence,
lifting the pregnant queen to wide and circled safety,
ever and always one move away from the sanctified crown
of the annointed King. The story told the time of reaping,
time of deep winter comes a' keeping, humanity comes
calling -- kneeling down, close to ground -- searching
for light in the snowy night, searching for sound --
of bells jingling and crystalline, bright and clear --
for trumpets of angels with voices shining --
always close, always dear. Hark!

Open My Ears

I am here -- waiting, listening. What are You whispering to me? Blow the breath with force. Sometimes I need a gale to hear, I think. They are all so thick, these acid tones that circle my days in tarnished sound; they wreath not greening holiday boughs but legacied rust -- entombed in ice, hardended moments of silence -- curtained with memories of tinsel days past, fragments sharp-edged and broken-bent --dead falling past advent, ripping toward the re-birth of spring. I am here -- waiting, listening. Close my ears to cacophony that they may be opened anew to Your rhapsody.