Beneath Unseen Things

Under the willow roots

A skeleton lays, looking up,

Wondering what it means

That he cannot be known.

All the living things

Above the surface earth

Perceive their present moments

Unaware of what’s below.

An impaled heart

Over which the willow weeps,

And dusty bones

Snuggled firmly in the dirt.

Unbroken silence,

The tree’s buried shelter

For secrets of its regions

That no one could know.

Dirt for the dead,

Commotion for the living,

Hollowness to follow,

Vacancy of thought.

Lovers, ash to dust,

Marrow is to bark.

Love without a light

To illumine what they are.

 

A Whale’s Song

A resonating moan

From the impenetrable depths

Of frigid blind ocean

Calls warmly.

In submerged gloom,

Glutinous and suffocating,

It solemnly sings

Its name.

Weathered and ancient,

Surviving in such remoteness,

The Whale’s cry penetrates

Through dread.

Sinking in mystery

Closing in and around,

That mellifluent tone

Stilling hearts.

Gallons of pressure

Perpetually pushing down

Merely perpetuate flight

For this giant.

Further descending

Into darkness obscure,

A resonating wail

Sings hello.