balladeer of moons

163,338 poems read

Meeting a smudged rainbow
This is the light I am afforded
And there is a certain quantification of time
in such a gift
My soul is from elsewhere
and now bowing and on the underside
of living
I squint to see the future
in shooting-stars
Still this deprivation and anarchy
Lend an apposite spiritual authority
The dream dreams me
rather than me dreaming the dream