poetry critical

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i am defeated for i have loved

hot and cold and wild
air is swept
further and farther
the sun standing still
weeps sacredly its highest expression
fires silence
the whole tapestry woven
both blinds
screen splattering shards
too much to say or couldn't
like defeated for i have loved
a good thing to summer
holding that space for rain
there is soul to behold in thunder
of moon and star cosmic syncretism
—a single star in the arms of a crescent moon
100 degrees into solstice
may their flames be directionless
eternal its arrival

~as within so without
as above so below
as the universe so the soul~


24 Jun 18

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30 centigrade
 — unknown