Be Still

It’s been a while

since the clock struck twelve

and all the world

was quiet–

all the past forgiven,

no sirens a-screamin,

just belief

in the silence,

in the tears.

 

The sky has cried

and so have I

to release

all this strange human guilt,

for puddles aside,

we can read all the lies:

the treasure is at the end

of the death row:

 

Death of The Other,

Death of The End,

Death of It’ll Never Happen Again,

a feeling of peace,

a meaning in light,

where all can let go

and be still.

 

October 19, 2015

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