where the writers are
This Night



I will survive this night splitting the sky in half

Words that cut my tongue

People who crowd me searching the earth

For water that will not be found


Water of my body, hold me as if I were a sage

Descended from a mountain top declaring

"All is not lost. You must act accordingly and with praise.

Without blame or desire for fortune."


A star fallen from the sky writes the walls of my soul

With styluses carved from the ivory tusks of elephants, their souls

And grow to the length of shadows at dusk

The sun behind illuminating electrifying extending

Their lives till dawn breaks open


 I’m here to compose to write colors that blind

And words that remain in the sand and silt of life

The silted tongues of birds


I will write poems that ascend from earth’s core

Into my palms to the sky

Taken like birds or prayers into thickest night