Its Misty Dwelling
07/25 2021
It comes out from its misty dwelling
On time everyday ---
Like the arms on a wristwatch
It is carried by the gears underneath
It whispers, it murmurs to those that listen
Yet remains a distant dream
Of fear --- and to some, joy ---
Whose form is wrapped up in stardust;
Like the remnants of our weary night.
It is a terrible thing that arises,
Yet the most neutral thing there is
In fact it is the only thing we truly know
Soon, too soon, you and I will know it
But approach it, and it retreats
Ignore it and face its grip
It holds your children hostage
As they smell dawn, and light, with an opioid wand.
When I come will you receive me?
Will I echo against the walls in the cavern
Its moss, its starlit nights?
Or will I trickle down St. Helen
In the form of rain drops
As a goat gives birth to its first child?
Noon lies high in the gray sky,
Ashes blow around the wide world
Those who held their ears now hold their words.
Its misty dwelling, to them,
Holds their only reckoning and salvation
From the soft voices of their children
Lingering on that drifting row boat.
It's headed someplace that's not home.