C L O U D L I K E

on

Chaos is the perfection of unweaving
Sublime in its evening wings
Invisibly beating above the brow
Thistle-like its native pleasures

Visionary sages crown
Misshapen Skulls
Inward heat becomes
Pulsating thought

Prayer is the affair of tapestry
Stifled in its dawning gold
Miserably speaking unto the sheep
Feather-like its iterate secrets

Solitary pillars drown
Unhallowed Hands
Outward prints hold
Muffling water

Trusting is the tumulus of alarming
Budding in its divine arms
Tenderly patient within the heart
Cloud-like its heirship oceans