Scrying on the Moon

By light of sibylline tones
appear images I recognize,
creviced captures of my life.
I know her judgment to be my own.

"Nourished by Moon rivers
mythical cavern blooms
unseen by sunlight
glow green." Thus she sets the scene;
becomes the prophecy.

"Purest white simplicity
curved to suggest fragility
scapegoat maiden ready for
plucking,
given in bondange to womanly woes,
hard rows to hoe
for that little bit of hug through
crying of night.

Fate of Trojan soldiers, sacrificed to lust.
Unbended, beg for the boon of drama
high adventure
sneaking into sad hotels
for a fix or a tumble.
Laughs,
deadly play,
danger, a real chance.

Barefoot in the snow
icy roads
winds so strong
I could not make you hear.
I thought you were my destiny.
These thoughts are far from clear;
but I believed
song lyrics from somber deities
would not lie, leave me
dying, fading into winter's grey
drifting clouds,
endless sorrow endured for naught.
Lost on this careless corner,
dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions
like rain
tapping against eternity's
vast windowpane.
Scenic serenity.
Nature's gradations of green
soothes tired eyes
trembling nerves and veins.
Slivers of moonlight reflected
in withered refrains, unearthing secrets
embedded in song
effervescing through cool pure air


cleansing the uprising nestling
set aflame
resurrected
tempered mettle,
pure, wise, tested
engorged with the will
to rise"