He called forth the lights across my body, long.
painted and drawn and unencumbered
wrapped and entwined and unfiltered.
And remembered a day when a lived far from them.
a voice that called me from the grave,
where it was hard to see through the dirt that
confessed me to be dead and counted by a number
with the worst of names. But i still remember,
seeds that sprung forth from the ground,
a growth spurred on by the light the stars had showered.
And owls making homes and professed to see beyond what i could see.
But in those eyes i saw , not eagle, not lion, not ox, But man, alone.
the grass grew grim with greater shades of grey.
As a boy i never gave up, but saw disfigured shapes in the eyes that
stared into mine through infinite refractions where my soul buried in
a forest of mirrors and worlds that grew deeper. darker.
Inside. Where a man came to meet me. and he made a home.
And in those eyes i saw a spirit, a protector, a might, above all,
a God,wearing my weakness.
Outside. I’m awake again. painted red, dusting the dirt off my garments,
alive. With the taste of an ocean dried up on lips that pointed north
for the first time , in 7 years.