The Body in a Dream

We sing in the branches,
The birds of night, born brittle
In broken words and melancholic memes,
As holy as the body in a dream
 
Woven in, set upon a tree,
Old and scorned, played out like a fiddle
With worn out strings, a holy see
That’s thrown upon the body in a dream
 
Windows open and close down here—
We listen with fear but cannot hear
And feel we’re being seen
In silence as the body in a dream
 
Until, at last, the knock that rocks the door,
With words that whisper no more—

Island in the Sea

There was an island, somewhere in the sea,
Where he sailed for miles away from any land,
Alone and guided by the stars he could see
To a distant shore on a narrow strand of sand.
 
Setting foot, he looked at a far off peak,
Eyes rising past a thousand ancient pines,
Through which he climbed past cliff and creek
Until at night he stopped to pray for signs.
 
He woke as the sun began to rise from the sea
And heard the birds come out in a choral song,
To sing a melody of when his heart was free

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