Evening Walk

Sometimes the Divine mystery is filled with majesty

Sometimes with misery

The hazy incense that once lifted my soul now suffocates

It feels lonelier to talk to myself than to sit in solitary silence

When I’m lonely I turn to smoke

The flame keeps me company

The smoke fills the halls of my chest

My nostrils like golden bells

My eyes gilded icons that reflect the Truth

The old mystic in me wants to believe I’m more than a machine

Dahl chewed on Briar wood and fumes as he dreamed up peaches and pastures of pheasants

Faulkner, half-naked, soaked the Louisiana sun with a wooden bit in his teeth

As his sweat and smoke blended into Mississippi swamps

I walk to a clearing in the fen where no light can be seen

The clouds that mask the English skies briefly disperse

Revealing the symphony of Planets that lit Holst’s eyes

A bright orange dot in the radiant navy

What horrors trends the god of storms in his kingdom

There was a temple to Jupiter we walked past, you and I

Went by the god of fire in jealousy

I blow too hard, sparks leap out from the mouth of my pipe

The only building untouched in the petrified paradize we explored hand-in-hand

Is a house of lust

The only bed remaining is one that saw no love

But it is empty

When I was a young boy I saw once a couple from this city-tomb

Encased in each others’ arms, encased in ash

Their love so unbreakable both Jupiter and Vulcan saw fit to preserve it for eternity

My tobacco burns out

I clean out my pipe

I wipe the wash between my lonely palms