Tuesday, November 24, 2009

by what was found inside;
It was not found
but found you.
Jumping out of no where
From the depths of a mindless mind,
in the deep heart of quiet strength,
It showed its power:
working through a cracked vessel--
A light through the torn rags.

But you know that it’s not you,
Both comforting and terrifying.

When there is something foreign inside
That you somehow always new.
It was there
For the moment
for you
to realize
That it was not you.
HE was not you, but knew you.


Trees of green and red,
spot a barren wasteland;
Land where quietness prevails--
Land that waits,
expecting fire over the horizon;
waits with baited breath.
A cold wind blows through the withered leaves
one more wind
one more moment,
an eternity spent in active waiting.
When the fire came
It came from no where
It consumed the hillside and the trees
But in the blaze, the passersby
Saw the trees had not been burnt,
But now as candles in the wind
burning through the coldness
waiting, but now growing, ever growing.

No comments: