Those images that come at the edge of waking
weave lies I believe with all my heart
only for a moment before the supports break
pillars crumble and the fortress falls into the sea
Then to new heights I go watching the sky
a shrinking horizon rushing in to take me
and it seems to all the world a tired death
but only skin-deep the fire burns on
driving forth new hordes to rage against this silence
The ink is spilled and flowing
a new elixir filling empty veins
with fabled dreams of peace time
Here at the gravesite of a champion
who dared to tread a path to hidden things
only the innocent need fear retribution
—
Flying back to Denver today. Strange to think that I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be in Washington is. Strange and exciting all at once.
—
Photo by Mauricio Artieda on Unsplash
The Light is On 
7 responses to “At the Edge of Waking”
Great read! Thank you, very much for sharing. Have a safe trip.
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Thanks so much! (:
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Beautiful poetry. Seattle area is having “winter wonderland”.
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Thank you! Wow, I barely got out of there then! Glad my flight wasn’t cancelled. Is it as bad as last year’s?
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It’s pretty bad, at least from my vantage point as a pedestrian! Took my life in my hands yesterday, walking uphill to Safeway for batteries (fear/preparedness of power outages). The pass to E. Wash was closed on and off–just as students were returning to WSU. I may not go out again till Spring! PS: I’m one of your serious fans–just changed blogs again… 🙂 I hope you are well–weather aside, 2020 shows promise 🙂
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Oof, that does sound bad. Stay safe! And thank you, much appreciated!
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You’re most welcome : ) And “oof” is right, haha!
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