Windswept

original poetry

The wind's howl listens
To my thoughts—

It carries and scatters them
To the edge of sanity.

My mind is a windswept canvas.

My previous works, erased,
By primordial breath absorbed.

The vacuum removes me from myself
So I can stare through the nothingness
And see the illusion of my pride.

The empty vanity of survival
Is a tired chrone thinly smiling
At me across the campfire of achievement.

In my pallid hands, outstretched towards the flame
Can be discerned decisions ill and great:
The wrinkles as my sorrows shaped the same.

Still there lies a glint within the mother flesh's eyes
Which broth-like, warms the bones, renews,
And cobbles new my flesh disguise.

Placed in pyrostasis by hypnosis of her stare:
Wordless voice entoned by onrush
of the swift & fervent air.

Breath of sadness, breath of time,
Breath of aching life:

Breath that clears my cluttered thoughts,
Howling wind, elusive wife.