Poetry, Unbound

The Call

Amidst the tempest-tossed
shore of forgotten eons,
cosmic evil slumbers.
One eye turned to the
unfathomable depths of depravity
which masquerade as his pleasant dreams.
The other,
turned towards humanity,
awaits the coming storm
whose gales will
strip away the light and
usher forth the
Stygian darkness.

And try as I might,
that infernal part of me
harkens to the call.

Photo by Andrei Lazarev on Unsplash

Poetry, Unbound

Sapphire Dream

A willow slumbers,
snoring sweet notes of lavender and lilac
heralding the emerald dream
to leave star shaped cutouts.
In the sapphire blue coldness
of mirrored midnight waters,
a late night fish hurries along
streaking color into the   
rippling tremors of

And I –  
I rest,
stretched beneath this warm blanket
of falling sky
dreaming of
when Dawn will awake
to sing her song to the robin
and the falling night
will crash to Earth
lighting the kiln of life.

In response to Daily Prompt: Relax 
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Blue” by BreaW (CC0 Public Domain)
Poetry, Unbound

Next to You

On sunny days when its rays
streak through closed blinds,
I dream I’m in the dust,
dancing and floating upward
and out toward the light.
I reach with greedy hands
for a chance at life,
a seed to plant in the morning breath.

I lay in bed next to you
warmed by the furnace of your belly.
I watch the ballet of tiny stars dance
and wait for you to move next to me.
I know you’ve been awake all night:
feeling me move,
hearing me breathe,
watching for signs of pleasant dreams.

You never sleep when I do.
You never see the universe
exploding in the morning light.

In response to Discover Challenge: Finding Your Place
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Rays of Sunlight” by BarbaraALane (CC0 Public Domain)
Poetry, Unbound

Looking Glass

Bad dreams keep me up at night.
Like two nights ago for instance:
I’m fighting with you.
Trying to flee.
I don’t really know why the urgency.

Then the looking glass spins.
I’m pregnant, crying in the seat next to you.
I’m bewildered at how I could be.
The only time we were unprotected
was two weeks ago.

Then there is a pivot to upside down.
The bodies have fallen down at my feet.
With a swollen belly and sunken eyes,
I’m climbing, running, crying,
but no one sees me, not even the child.

I wake up frightened.
I wake up heartbroken.
I wake up not wanting to wake up.
I wake up wanting the child
but knowing it may never be.

In response to Daily Prompt: Flee
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Nightmare” by werner22brigitte (CC0 Public Domain)