It's gratifying when someone "gets" what you are doing with a creation; then turns and shows you something new, and relevant. Something you might not have deliberately intended, but which is clearly there and clearly right.
- a planetary poem by MeteorMags
when you no longer hate the sun for shining
or curse it for bringing life
to our cold blue speck
when you run out of things to say
i will hold your heart in my hand
so you may count the petals of every flower
every hand that held another
holds us. ache for me when i am gone
then realize i never leave you
write our manifesto and burn it
chart a course to bury treasure
our planted chest of golden coins
will grow to a garden of stars.
love it for me as if it is our child
my place is with you
we paint the stars together
when no one else is breathing
the moon hides below the horizon
our neighbors rise from beds
like corpses from their graves
unable to recall the songs
the mockingbird performed at 4 a.m.
the wind whistled down the asphalt
haunted only by coyotes.
my modern mercury’s caduceus
is a radio tower pulsing
between realms like dreams
the serpents of his staff
become iron girders riveted to the sky
broadcasting love and fury
to the sons and daughters of lightning
spanning the globe under incandescent shelter
from midnight’s prehistoric treachery
the courier’s gift
signals the dawn
Poems can be submitted at the drop boxes on LEA 4, or by emailing them to caledoniaskytower at g mail (dot) com.