Poem III
Restoration
Each word the harvest of vowels.
Breakers of consonance
flatten against rocks.
A stride breaks.
A passive rhythm pushes
into bearable impatience.
The ray that fractures darkness
can shatter a mind.
Verifiable.
The honey that snakes through nests
of twigs pushes some over edges.
Verifiable.
Falling down is prerequisite
to rising; the desert
donates seeds that douse
our thirst, and the barbed nooks
of a worn parka slam
shut against our keys.
For some the daze of expansion
signals demise,
though what abandons us
is judged useless tomorrow,
and the portal that steers us away
will restore us.
Between north and south
we converge where light and dark,
two, yet not,
merge, meld,
complement, ally.
Each vowel
a consonant;
a rock a wave.
Verifiable.