Oath

My hope is that hope remains,
For the promise of blood
And flesh that years past,
An oath was made.

But, there is no knowing
The strength of such things.
The eternity of such things.
The truth of such things.

Will you remember,
Beyond the doubt
And beyond the
Faltering of your faith?
Beyond the tidal swell
Of the emptiness
Which in you
Consumes all things?

You, who are 'needless.'
You, who are beyond
The simple comforts
Of flesh.
You who are most
When feeling less.

You who are cause
Of my own lacking.
You who are reason
For my knowing;
I deserve fullness and
Richness and healing.
That I am divine,
And that to live and
To feel and to know
Is divine.

Being

I hold the moment,
Yet unproven by trial or memory.

What I do not know;

What will be known. 

And so too,

The moment holds me.

I am what I am. 

I am bound, 

As you are free.

Forever in doubt, 

Lacking the rage,

Or courage or fire

For life.
For living.

For being.

Swell

I swell
To incomprehension,
When the mind becomes
Everything and nothing.

I burst into a bloom
Of two colors,
Black and white or
Two shades of blue.

Ever and on
My thoughts.
Flame and fog
At once.
Hope and shame
At once.

I love
And loath myself.

Counted

Counted and uncounted,
A dead fly is missing
One wing.
I wonder,
If it was the spider who
Who got it.

It scurries along the baseboards
When I turn a light on.
I corner it,
Looking at it look up
At me.
I think of putting my foot down,
But always decide to let
Things be.

It is the kind
That spins no web,
But hunts at night when
We are sleeping.
Feeding on the corpses
Of the things that I don't care
To think about.