~Tear Step Trip~

The long distance trip began,
soul sniper’s soaring bullets strike,
fired from the ethereal plain,
through root stem leaf & sap,
the infant rind of classic verse immerse the senses in a warm violet haze,
it haunts you from the indigestive thoughts of a library wholly devoured,
a third eye’s meditation sight, 
shamanic auguries that rend the walls of the timeless,
ancient garden.

Here the seeds of knowledge grow,
becoming the fruitful truth of clarity,
digging deep through concrete streets,
to awaken from tomb-land slumbers,
the forgotten farmland’s bones, 
where a river’s ghost flows through lands of shrouded genius,
it’s vaunted banks lined with downcast faces trapped,
society’s boot upon their gift;
held down by dirty plastic soles.

So their secrets they covet,
heart pressed and blooming,
flowers in the dark casting webs of coverts scents,
drawing night’s Moth where the Butterfly should reign,
and there she plays in silent strokes,
screaming unstrung violins,
drawing her bow of a vision held,
over ghostly quivering strings,
she hears the music in her rhythm’s heart,
beating at the bars of her paranoia’s cage,
she imagines flights of fluid dance stilling the ordered echo of her prison,
plunging scowling laugher's faces,
beneath the humming tides of sunlight.

She takes a Christ like step,
upon the sea of tears,
waves rise from her light skipping sole to break upon my wayward shores,
where the Seagull cries of the long distance trip,
from here to evermore,
drifting endlessly in the brink of perception,
to walk the event horizon of her dreams,
and whisper my name to her soul...






©David Nickle Read 2015
All Rights Reserved  By The Author