Wise in names

He frames

A maze of mirror-words

To bind what lies in shadows

To itself

Wings folded

The past sleeps at last

As daylight creeps

To peek out slow-fast

At its own birth

Inhaling the scent of the earth

We sing the old tongue

No words

Only the dark hum

Of ghost birds

Calling deeper forces

To come

From unseen sources

The boundaries melt

What is lost is felt

And lost again

The stars awaken

For living men to see

Before they pass beyond this world

Through this broken looking glass

To the other side

© 2022 Julie Flanders

Image: Melissa Nucera


April is Poetry Month Day 29


About octoberprojectmusic

Julie Flanders Marina Belica Emil Adler
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