The Journey Continues
The holy trenches, just outside Gallowan
are surrounded, protected some say
by the deep and whispering wood.
Deep, deep in the woods
lies a secret, unmarked tomb.
Beyond the whispering woods of Gallowan,
the sky reaches over distant bluffs
which echo secrets of the land over the town.
The Gallowan woods call to me once more
like a stillborn, feminine whisper
rattling the trees…
So soft a beckoning
it scents the air with white roses;
so gentle a caress
you feel the touch of a woman's
delicate hand upon your shoulder
when she echoes...
Be… not… afraid.
Roots of an iron oak
provide haven for the tender
patchwork moss below my feet
The grandmother boughs
of this monstrous oak shade her roots
in emerald parasol sanctuary
These roots draw me to them
and I sit for a tired moment.
With my eyes closed
I see my own demons
they flog each other
with white flags taunting surrender
for I feel I can no longer continue
this tiresome journey,
yet my soul yearns for purpose,
so I carry on…
I lay my eyes on the clouds above
wishing for a falling scroll of heaven
or a gilded map to guide my path,
but alas only this dusty book.
I flip through these blood-scented pages
seeking direction but I find only a name
written in the blood
of a King unworthy of his crown.
Just a name...
I will seek him to find the truth unwritten
To find the bleeding path
of Fate's chariot aflame
Only then will I find my purpose,
Have I lost all sense of direction?
I can not fail or I will perish
to the shallow depths of Hell.
My soul will forever be lost
and for a sin so disgraceful ;
my blood forever scorned.
I implore my God for guidance
I know not where my path leads me.
Nor where to turn and I must not fail you.
A tired sigh escapes my lips
I fear I will never find my way again.
Through the tangled brush before me
a glint of sun-kissed fuchsia teases my eye…
sweet, sweet berries entice from afar.
Could this perhaps be the hint of hope
I have been seeking.
I reach through piercing thorns,
to taste sweet and I gather them.
My arms; now scratched and bleeding…
yet, I have never felt so human.
Though my hunger
was a caged lion ravaging, I tasted but one,
held it in and suckled it in my cheek
with my tongue, I punctured the skin
letting the juice spill out coating my palate…
Never has fruit tasted so sweet
I devoured the bulb and the seeds,
hands crimson-stained and burning.
Such edible pleasure,
as though this bush was placed by God himself
for me alone to feast.
I am forever grateful.
I placed a few more berries
in my satchel and
Just around the bend
Promise led me to a running stream
I bathed myself
for the first time since my departure.
I dug my toes in the mud
beneath the chilled water's edge
deep, deep into the muck
and the sensation pleased and calmed me
Gossamer dragon flies of copper and sapphire
teased the breezes flying about my head.
I washed the thorns and blood from my limbs
and hope floated by on the wings of a monarch.
Promise grazed near by and I watched her.
I remembered the day that I found her
or rather when she found me…
I heard her crying out in agony from afar
I followed her painful wail through the trees
She had a thorn buried deep, deep in her hoof
It was terribly swollen and bleeding profusely
with my bare hands I pulled it out
despite the threat of being kicked
She appeared famished, winded and tired,
too weary to fight
I poured the contents of my flask
out upon her reddened flesh
and she wailed again once more
I fed her from my satchel
and she feasted hungrily;
then she followed me home…
I still carry that very thorn with me.
I wrapped it with string
and wear it now about my neck
It reminds me I have a companion.
Promise and I rested while my garments dried
and we continued on our way
towards the distant bluffs
The air around me was thick with salt
and once again spoke the whisper of the sea.
apryl skies © 2011
To Be Continued…