Another Wish

I'd wish you a million wishy wishes

if I could see but one,

over the crest of the wave of sky

before the day is done.

I'd wish you a million million more

to see them in your eyes-

Such magic meets it fellow quick,

To spark it- how time flies!

A million, million, millionth wish?

What good would it be?

You have the rest inside of you,

except this poem from me.

To Claim the Sky

The cathedral of sky empties of prayers
When a pilgrim is wary of the ground again,
Who tiptoes its echoing vaults of wind,
Arched solid as the rains descend.

In the halls of sun, the houses of days,
With twilights burning along the wall,
All is drawn behind the night,
Storming, should one faithful fall.

The darkness is young, wiry of wit,
For raindrops pass in hoods of mist,
Lusting for the gold, the grime
The faithless donned in shadows kissed.

Felled phoenix, daunted in the clear,
The steeple appears long-painted past,
Who is to know the bells still toll
Lest a neighbor lends a feather, at last?

On the Pedestal

The finest of them,
The most eminent
Swerved, dodged narrowly
The sweet, sweet coronation.

The highest, the obscure,
The worthy of pride-
Cast like a thousand sighs
Upon the disjointed sea-
He stands alone in sunrise.

The rest, young and old,
Reaching or pulling,
Say a prayer, smile for him.

Shadow

A smiling, crouching shadow
Sings the sweetest lullaby-
Stooped, yet linked
In the night a thousand shades.

Only then, in the pool of light
Is it simple, just
As any love, found alone-
Mercy and truce.

The days are fooling,
The endless turning times
But the lightest cogs
In a turning, turning shift.

Expectation

Marked silence? She sits,
Stands from a falling throne-
Her crown waits, she says.

It is gone, only hoped,
Only dreamed, dreamed away
The only heir she so kept.

The last question,
Before the light caved
To a coughting empty world-
What is left?

Legends of Hope

Transcending- but a glimpse
To the finest, behind the eye,
Behind the scattering
Of any light at all.

There, it waits, in the glory
So blind to see, shrouded-
The strong voice- echoing
That tangling, spidery song.

The true gods that run us,
They empty this little world,
Drown in tears at her feet,
Come washing back to us all.

Healing Mantra

I shall purge myself of all things by immersing myself completely in their beauty.
I shall clear myself of all thoughts by letting them fill me, one at a time, until they all strain and purify.
I shall purify my tabula rasa by filling it and letting all pass from it gently.
I shall speak by listening and filling my actions with sincerity.
I shall be free by exiling my desires where they may be one with the world.
I shall be timeless by immersing myself in time and passing with it.
I shall think and be thoughtful by setting my obligations free.
I shall spare the life of my obligations by giving them freedom.
I shall fulfill my obligations by befriending the life of the mind.

In this, I shall be whole.

Harvest Cycles

Peace does sit on woven thrones,
Where peace does prosper,
Die in flame.

Peace does thrive on hope alone,
For death is but the heart to blame.

It scatters grain upon the sky,
Watch its promise, light and true.
A king may build a mighty throne;
To sit on it, would never do.

For words, like husks, will fall away,
Emptied of their growing seed.
In the wind, so fierce a fray
They hold but whispered, drifting deed.

In the end, the riches free
Are paid with those with alms to spare.
Riches sowed and feasted glee
Reborn, a hope with little care.

Prophecy

Tread on stars,
The sun's weeping trail
Against the thirsty sky.

A fixture
Upon this darkest night,
For peace never sleeps.

We're waiting,
All waiting
For when the fools do wake.

Volumes of Fantasy

A traveling friend from long ago
Came bound with cotton thread.
Full of words, he spoke of spells
And left with gold instead.

Still, I wandered, still half blind
To where he'd really gone.
It wasn't he that I looked for,
But what he'd come upon:

A world where people lived for love
And died for what was good,
Where money came with silly names
As silly treasures should.

Where evil found a second chance
If it looked hard enough,
Where homes were built on love alone
And fairy tales were tough.

How hard I looked,
How free I felt
To be bound by magic spells!
To wash the hand that fate had dealt
And all the wishing wells!

The traveler came bounding back,
Still bound, but painted bold.
Telling me this place to be
If dreams were turned to gold.

*Inspired by my Harry Potter reading experience