Oh Be Wise

As the worlds have frozen still,

a grain of sand from the ancient waters has had its fill.

Shorten the days of painted thoughts drifting by.

No more silent nights in the autumn sky.

As if the golden city can stay its lofty hand,

or the silvery twilight calm a centered fear.

Sing the song of the forgotten—who can hear?

Whisper to the dawning sun.

Your eyes shone once, a prayer for one.

Oh, be wise; what can I say more?

My anxieties have grown bold—not in story, not in lore.

A black hole rests at the core of my peace.

The frozen winds light the hearth for the northern geese.

Water or bread.

Red triangles turn the pages within my spinning head.

If the tired sun naps before the moon,

I'll rise from the dust created by my mind.

The day spins onward from this crafty boon.