The Sacred Hour Of My Dance

 

Cut down in the night.

I circumvent every light in

The sacred hour of my dance.

For the creed is to be upheld

By the statues found within

All sanctity the heart does spill.

In the tides of vanquishing all

Remittance, there is the earth

Which speaks praises to the

Moonlight.

For in the moonlight it is

Unfounded in every song.

Eyes behold his arms bleeding

Out over the sea.

For it is her eyes he considers

His salvation.

However, his satiated breaths

Seep into my soul whenever I

Thirst for his hold to deplete me

Of my shadows.

For where in the shadows does

The dance end?

Is it the valley I walk?

I kneel down and pluck a grain

From the earth, bring it to my

Mouth, and absorb all erasure

Of my stale wind.

I absorb all its essence.

I shield my eyes with my hands

When the sun seeps into crevices

Of my flesh; transforming it a

Golden hue.

For I’m feed by the Lord’s power.

Shield me by the cusp within each

Stronghold, and I shall send out

My smoke signals to the heavens.

I derive from the ashes within His

Mighty footprints.

I’m connected to Him.

His tears unfold my spirit with all

Servitude exclaimed by His words.

“I know heal all wounds found

Beneath the quelling dread.

However, it is your longing which

I absorb in my hands; rubbing out

All poison from your spirit.”

I kneel down at His feet, grasping

Blades of grass.

I tug them out of the earth,

Massaging their oils into His flesh.

For the essence found within my

Spirit has bestowed a resilient

Aura upon me.

His light burns into me.

Now, I see all I could not.

I’m now the hours in every blade

Of grass.

For it is His strength burning inside

Of me.

Fire comes to call on me,

And I leap into their flames.

They surround my being with

Holistic power.

I emerge into clouds, and fall onto

My bed.

I grasp my pill tight,

Allowing it to caress the flesh of my

Face.

Closing me I, I seep into sleep,

And drift away into the spirit realm.

Soulful winds surround my senses

With enticing melodies.

I’m carried away into heaven’s gates,

Letting the clock unwind at the sound

Of the crow.

There is no rain to fall upon my soul.

There is only the free spirit.

I ride the rails, smelling smoke from

The smokestacks.

They tickle my nose, enabling me to

Cough out embroilment.

Now, I drop into the sunlight, drifting

In my rowboat.

The Lord lowers my sails.

I sink back unto my bed.

© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016

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