Poetry

Acid rain falls from Demeter’s eyes,
Etches a dictum on the glassy ice
That seals the primal pond, the womb of life-
All frozen hands of mortals press against
This icy threshold trying to escape
Eternal consequence of ennui.
 
Ambient panorama falls away
Towards the stony seam of sky and earth,
‘Tis barren save for one primeval Yew
That grew in Eden once, and once in Ur,
And in collective visions of mankind
And in the garden of the Otherworld.
 
Twisted, ancient roots spread underground,
To penetrate the silent icebound sphere,
The frozen pond where inspiration drowned,
And crack the ice like cosmic genesis.
It slowly melts and from this liquid source,
The pale and naked mortals are reborn.