A Thing That May Only Fall

These are the darker nights of the soul.

All in which the wind is a slow rolling thing.

A zephyr ethereal

Empyrean and ephemeral

Coming from some farther off place


I will never reach that summit.

I will dance about its feet.

I will show the roots who I am.

I will know the crevice for the secret held.


What am I to do with all this oncoming?

Black hearts, blacker tongues of wave after wave

The water laps at a shore that never ends.

Rocky shoal

Whirling away into the night of the storm


I will pick the stones up from where I see them.

I will toss them all back from whence they came.

I will expect all that I will.

I will accept all that I will not.


There is a cadence to the end of time.

The dance of a whirlwind

All my thoughts obey the current.

Again and again, what remains?

The terrifying freedom of a thing that may only fall.

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