FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

in that pit of sorrow
shall one descend

until his head is seen
no more

what is left is the plain
a desert if you mind

the sun is cruel
as seen on the skulls of goats

and men and children
but one cannot just descend

forever into the
grief that is so overwhelming

that is not the end
of this undertaking
for soon one who is scarred
& scared

with so much sadness
learns so carefully
how is to mend and repair
and the heart

that is broken soon shall
reconnect the strings that snapped

from its guitar body
and one's trembling fingers can still

figure music what just two strings
or even one

down to that grave of darkness
where shadows slowly speak

one day an eye looks for a leak
of light on the stone ceiling

and finding the  opening of a hint
wings its way outside

to the world of light where it
once lived

for it shall remember and rise
once again like a kite to the wind

as spirit as scent ascends to  calmness
and gentleness
& plenitude of hope
& if you believe that much
or completely
to the heights of morning
glory


the scars listen and the broken limbs
reshape what the spirits

reinvent: you see, you must have
felt it, because

it happens and we are still here
willing to speak and sing.