WhiSkies Embering... In my Soul

my glass

window of Creation

shatters

my wine

of the Vine

splatters

into a thousand pieces of silver

and gold

in our skies

of old

amber memories that burn

like whiSkies

embering

remembering

charcoal words written

in my soul

i am

Golden Glorious Sun

dust

mixed with

ash

volcano red rage

always making

an orange haze

that hangs

on the gallows, behind the curtains

of our stage

tattered sackcloth cloud

hands

weathered and wrinkled

with scarlet

strands

baring

our Pain

so heavy

weights us down, sets us down

with the Son

on dark eyeseas

of mysteries

and wonder

at the wonder

in these scars

that will shine, through this Night

our peekablue stars

baring

our Beauty

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