12-09-2025, 09:31 AM
And tomorrow's day will come
Amber dawn begins to pale, against the violet sky
Bees whisper through yawning winds
wading through earth and soot
as nightingales take final flight
In barren field a poppy grows
through dried vine and fractured rock
beneath the dying olive tree
______________________________
And tomorrow’s day will come
.
Charon’ clock guides night to longing rest
ticking through formaldehyde soaked air
Plastic lights sear the shade against white walls
where sleepless meet wakeless
while Lachesis pulls her thread
In silent ritual they sit,
pilgrims praying at the altar
of the dying olive tree
______________________________
And tomorrow's day will come
Tearful mist begins to thaw, against the frosted windows
rays pierce through seams
and scour the floor
rousing elbow and foot,
upon the marble bed
In poppy fields the cool rain pours
which seeps through dirt and bone
to wet the dying olive tree.
Please feel free to be as open and honest with any thoughts and criticisms, I appreciate and welcome all feedback!
Amber dawn begins to pale, against the violet sky
Bees whisper through yawning winds
wading through earth and soot
as nightingales take final flight
“Potnia, hear the call, rise again!”
Through chalk and stream
Through vine and grape
Through yolk and fawn
Through fire and ash
Wake all who slumber and guide them.
Bend the trees
Crack the stone
Scorch the fields
Freeze the seas
May none defy them.
In barren field a poppy grows
through dried vine and fractured rock
beneath the dying olive tree
______________________________
And tomorrow’s day will come
.
Charon’ clock guides night to longing rest
ticking through formaldehyde soaked air
Plastic lights sear the shade against white walls
where sleepless meet wakeless
while Lachesis pulls her thread
Restless bodies pacing through these halls
their steps echo, like water drops in a grotto
In their left hand white tulips,
metal in their right.
“Beware, beware!
They may steal your fate.”
needle, numb the skin
scalpel, cut the sinew
saw, gnaw the bone
clamp, hold the vein
but,
maligned blood still remains
and tomorrow's day will come
In silent ritual they sit,
pilgrims praying at the altar
of the dying olive tree
______________________________
And tomorrow's day will come
Tearful mist begins to thaw, against the frosted windows
rays pierce through seams
and scour the floor
rousing elbow and foot,
upon the marble bed
The light, it roars in sorrow,
at Hypnus’s cruel deceit,
within the darkness
hidden
“Carry forth to whence you came
along the river Lethe!”
And so they stir, as once before
kindled by flame of amber dawn
take flight toward the rising sun
burn away what had once been done
dust melts to earth, clouds burn to rain
tomorrows day will come again
In poppy fields the cool rain pours
which seeps through dirt and bone
to wet the dying olive tree.
Please feel free to be as open and honest with any thoughts and criticisms, I appreciate and welcome all feedback!