Thursday, April 13, 2006

A Plan for Easter

alive on this living Earth.
Here is my cathedral where I can ingest
the sacrament of sunrise,
and my breath will become sweetened.
Sweet like a new poem recited with the tongue
of a virgin, and my heart will blare like a trumpet.
Blast a three note symphony of joy as a strong testament
to my brief years in this natural world.
I’ll follow my memories like a crumb trail
through out the threat of darkened woodlands
until I reach a safe home.

A Lifetime Unread

Vowels lie decaying upon the ground
consonants half erect like the walls
of ruins, whole paragraphs in shards,
sit in disrepair, unread. The universe
winding down is a library
of yet-to-be written books.
Life flitters by like a fly
leaving a rotted apple.