ONE NIGHT THIS DARKNESS
One night this darkness will end life
with clouds in damp fog without stars
and a moon dressed in tatters screaming
at feet scratched on pebbles in low-tide
rough water to sway one and stumble
Maelstroms twist, turn and swallow fish
in an icy-cold winterland with rickety wrecks
Stranded with thundering crashes ashore
leaving flotsam resentful on soggy sand
The roar of firebolts raging around
And the sky will fall in guarded shadows,
streaks painted in dripping revelations,
shades of nevermore patina
eroding encrusted thoughts into gaping holes,
swallowing what is left of the dream
The artisan's hand glares down from the sky
Gouache in thick streaks in tangerine rage
A knife sticking out scraping clouds
Unstable equilibrium shakes easel unnoticed
Genius vision or prediction of doomsday
When the unthinkable, unfathomable happens,
in silent sunbeam glory a single bloom forms
Tiny roots navigate a desolate landscape,
gently removing soil from fractured stone,
caressing sorrows in springtime whispers
Dark clouds now cast warming farewells
as blue sky canopies float like streamers,
singing in harmony with endless beliefs that,
one night this darkness will end life,
until dawn’s resurgence is reborn
in an icy-cold winterland with rickety wrecks
Stranded with thundering crashes ashore
leaving flotsam resentful on soggy sand
The roar of firebolts raging around
And the sky will fall in guarded shadows,
streaks painted in dripping revelations,
shades of nevermore patina
eroding encrusted thoughts into gaping holes,
swallowing what is left of the dream
The artisan's hand glares down from the sky
Gouache in thick streaks in tangerine rage
A knife sticking out scraping clouds
Unstable equilibrium shakes easel unnoticed
Genius vision or prediction of doomsday
When the unthinkable, unfathomable happens,
in silent sunbeam glory a single bloom forms
Tiny roots navigate a desolate landscape,
gently removing soil from fractured stone,
caressing sorrows in springtime whispers
Dark clouds now cast warming farewells
as blue sky canopies float like streamers,
singing in harmony with endless beliefs that,
one night this darkness will end life,
until dawn’s resurgence is reborn
***
February 3, 2017
©Chris Green
©Darren White
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