WOMEN AND CHILDREN
Angels magically performing miracles
In spiralling circles of hope,
Atop the ceremonial seas of destiny
Prevail upon the tides of time.
A multi-coloured rainbow
Pulsates against a mist covered sky.
Twilight and sleep conjure dreams
Of a golden hued city
Flanked by ancient warriors standing guard.
Gleaming in eternity’s mirror,
White robed sages and shamans
Encased in golden auras
Elusively flow and ebb
Through the twinkle of stars
And the scriptures of heaven.
Returning and changing their shapes,
This feminine caucus rises like a laureate spell
Enshrouded in a glorious cause.
Women and children pray to the angels
“Leave these men alone.
Do not trifle with their souls.”
Pentecostal aftermaths rain down
From the beads of wet on heaven’s brow,
From the corners’ of her weary eyes
And dedicate themselves to annihilation
Of hellish atrocities and hidden blasphemies.
Ghost and aging philosophers
Declining pride and insolence
Have tasted of the eternal flame of knowledge.
Prudence steps aside willingly, forcibly
For the sake of a moment’s everlasting joy.
Unable to grasp the true gifts of love
They shall never surrender
Their crowns of indifference and thorns
To speculation, risk or chance.
Familiar with meat and drink
Flesh and blood
They enlist their saviours and angels
To battle the deadly sins.
Women and children pray to the angels.
“Leave these men alone.
Do not trifle with their souls”
Vengeance serves its own needs
Parading through disguises
That none may truly know her.
Passion put asunder
Claws at the steamy window pane,
A cat scratching for sustenance
Eking out a frantic desperation
Shrieking talons
Against a glass shorn world.
Eyes that have witnessed
Too many luke-warm altars
Search for Gods in vain
Be they heavenly or earthbound.
Blood congeals on the written word
That dissolves in acid teardrops
As the women and children weep
For the forgotten rainbows
And disappearing skies.
Midnights come and midnights go
Stabbing the days with an ebony stiletto
Seams of a dark navy skirt splitting open
Over a shot silk evanescent slip
Dawn and dew dissolving
Only an embrace away.
Deeds and gifts are not one in the same.
Connected as they may appear to be
They have separate luminosities
Separate densities;
An obscure separation of identities.
Fresh water streams gorging their niche
Through scarred mountain trails
Still alive with the breath of the ancients
Adrift and ablaze in their own eternities.
These things are spoken of softly
And whispered through death’s chilled lips.
Women and children pray to the angels
“Leave these men alone.
Do not trifle with their souls.”
Promises made but never heard
Questions locked in the ears of hell.
Satyrs galloping through a herd of unicorns,
Thorns in a lion’s paw,
Luck and the devil reigning supreme
Over the land of the lost and forgotten.
Seas churn with strife
Destroying the fabric of life.
Spirits and entities lacerate their wrists
Spilling crimson blood
To sear each other’s wounds
Trying on each other’s soul
Uncomfortable with the sizes
That don’t quite fit.
Pain and torture, real as they may seem
Chafed with coals and raw with diamonds
Are only feelings of the flesh.
Kingdoms have crumbled
Seasons have stumbled
Under the tears
Of these women and children,
Inside the prayers
Of these mothers and virgins;
And still these men do not understand
The source, the reason for their sanctuary.
Women and children still pray to the angels.
“Leave these men alone.
Do not trifle with their souls.”
Angels magically performing miracles
In spiralling circles of hope
Atop the ceremonial seas of destiny
In another time and space
Elude, evade, and remain hidden from
These pious women and children.
Prayers vanish in lost horizons
Fading ink blots in a fog encrusted valley.
Illusions manifest in smooth satin sheaths.
Gleaming sabres in a shot silk sky
Peering through the eye of midnight.
People and shadows passing through hands
That sift the sands of time.
Their presence never registered
They float as spirits on high
Delving and diving through the eyes
Of a thousand living needles.
Hands and hearts
Riddled with bloodstains
Enmbedded,
Indelibly etched
In the fabric of their soul,
These men have given their best,
Tasted the fruits of victory
And worn the wounds of defeat.
Commanding hope,
Seeking asylum,
Women and children speak
Through the souls of these men.
Leave their words alone.
Do not trifle with their thoughts.
Women and children,
Angels and prayers,
The keepers of the keys
To the stars,
To eternity.