Once More

carolina_wren_2

Though the storm abated
when the morning sky expelled charcoal clouds
whose light sabers summoned guttural roars
that shook my sleeping soul,

I remain cautious with dread
as I collect branches broken before their time
and leaves scattered across the path
leading to my garden pelted by hail.

My senses await the portent
of yet more of heaven’s random wrath
while my bones prepare to rattle
at the mere hint of barometric shift.

Then you bring me coffee
and bid me to pause
for just a moment,
so you can read to me
today’s forecast of clear skies,
light breezes and
perhaps gentle rain.

And you assure me that
the modest wren shall sing once more.

Beacons, I heed your cry

beacon

Solitary though I stand across the distance
I still feel the primal pulse in our kindred hearts.
Defenders, Keepers, Protectors.

Some brandish a holy book or burn incense
or mumble morning prayers to the east.
Some never give heaven a second thought.

I search your eyes among the masses
and sometimes catch the golden glimmer
of ancient urges and unabashed courage.

Defenders of children clothed in rainbow skins
Stewards of creation birthed in genesis
Protectors of water pulsing in earth’s veins.

I cannot escape your primal war cry.
Allow me join your army of righteousness.
Let me wear your colors and wield your sword.