Heaven’s light shines down
Upon me with the whispers
Of the morning.
They call to me in subconscious
Realms, asking truths to be
Carried out to hungry hearts,
Burning from wounds left over
From ages past.
If only my song would carry
Me through feisty beams
Awaiting to destroy my mind.
For this pulsating river bleeds
Turbulence into my earthly body.
How can the flames of a sagebrush
Be ignited again?
Who will be the match to strike
A flame in life’s furnace?
Is there such a thing as a song
Never settling into a lonely star
A shining, when no one takes
For to keep on burning up
The sky, her inner power
Must be kept, so as to
Release a magnitude to
Fortify this heavenly cistern.
Should the wayward wind
Compress, sallow down depleted
Flesh, so lost to the earth when
Hourly dance tires out the moon’s
Assailants drive their dagger mad
When graveyards come alive in
The moon’s mystic glance.
Shattered soul lying dust in the
Wind calling, that’s all she is
Is dust in the wind,
How can a dream shield my heart
When emotions get buried alive?
But, suppression is a must
If her mind is to thrive.
For all I am is dust in the wind.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015