Author Information
skylight morning
Folder:
Dead Poets
Outside the skylight, morning breathes—
not a riddle, not a veil,
but a hand stretched open,
steady as the oak that keeps its watch.
The sky is not abyss but garment,
woven blue, a shawl of ease;
its quiet folds smooth out the creases
that the day had pressed upon my brow.
The trees do not whisper secrets,
they speak plainly:
we are here, we endure,
and in our rootedness, you may rest.
No sphinx, no silence heavy with dread—
only the brush of night’s last sigh,
and the promise that even in darkness
companionship is near,
and light will always return.
.
Your verbal skill is well
Your verbal skill is well displayed in this powerful poem.
Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]
Glad to have brought some
Glad to have brought some enjoyment and interaction. We would have been different poets or worked at it in other ways had there been no social media aspect to this exercise.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver