Original portrait by Eric Ward, © 2016. All rights reserved.
(today)
The sound
Of the voice
Glistens like
Wet blood
(soft)
Across the
Sick cool
Pale hue
Of time
(drenched)
In the
Indelible memory
Of God
(today)
The holy depth
Of imagination
Has been struck
By the
Divine hand
Of the muse
(as)
The poet genuflects
(wide)
Curly-tailed eyes
(kneeling)
To give thanks
For the path
That leads
Him to
The river
(where)
Feeble lips drink
(come)
To taste
The seven dreams
(of)
The light sing
this is great!!