Poetry for All

The root, brown and black, with red.  

Do you see the devil in the sky, taste the poison in the wind?  

Touch the plague.  

Flying across the sky, heavy dust, dark like wet earth with an ugly stench.  

It stings. The earth trembles, groans and roars.  

Mother is awake, she opens her pours, do not fear holy water.  

The loud cry of All breaks the thin vail, love your neighbor, your father and your mother, the inner child.  

Play with small pebbles, stack them high, watch them fall, let out a sigh. 

 Death, my first friend, invited in the moment I took my first breath.  

Sit for a moment.  

I ask, sun ray who wears the crown, do you hear the sweet humming?  

How pretty they sing.  

It will all subside, the empty halls will be full of squirming bodies once again.  

Broken speech will set a date, pinned with a needle the size of a thimble.  

Silly dancing children, how the fiery ants make their legs shake.  

Raise a brow, perk an ear, the sweet melody in the wind is near.  

Devilish pan, his mischievous ways.  

Wingless bird, mother is awake.  

Some will remember, some may forget.  

This is a bed time story, close your eyes to All the dancing colors, the cradle is beneath, she rocks you to sleep.  

The root, brown, black and red, the hungry are fed.