I and the Sky

I was always bright in the August sun.
I was always fierce in the storm.
Thrilling and haunting, I was in the mist;
And kind, when the evenings were warm.

But joy is occult in my face and my soul
As I sit staring up at the sky
I hold my breath, and she holds her breeze
And the sun expectantly shines

"Oh, sister, your eyes are blacker than coal.
And your spirit is heavier still.
Stolen from me by a shattering heart
And stolen from you by his will"

And the skies opened up, and my eyes overflowed
In mourning for innocent love
Pallid and glowering - stormy and grey
In anger, again were were one

I Will See You There

I will arrive,
Crawling, as I am,
The briars still clinging to my feet
Terminating their journey
With final, gouging determination

But I will not be invited in,
For I will not have the strength to knock

I will arrive,
Mute and dry
No air to herald my return
But the tight, laboured, wheezing
Momentos of forgotten flame and smoke.

But I will not be invited in
For I will not have the voice to call out

I will arrive,
Blinded and frozen
Squinting where the blood has dried
And fused my lashes so completely
And stained my cheeks the colour of hate

But I will not be invited in
For I will not have the face of a friend

You will arrive
Clean, with trumpet sounding
And He will open the ornate door
Then stoop down to puzzle
And recognize a daughter amid the mess

You will be invited in
And I will be carried