Prophecy
Who holds the keys
Who knows what will happen?
A new day sheds the night.
Who holds the keys of prophecy?
Or knows the new day’s flight.
Over empty valleys
Mistaken by the mist
Sent by shards of starlight
The morning sunshine kissed.
Like an eagle buffeting
Against the autumn breeze
Lace and hallucinations
Brought her to her knees.
In and out of avenues
Stopped by a dead end
Stitching up the fraying hems
One more thing to mend.
My mind meanders mirthfully.
The nuances are near.
Washed away by a new day
The sky is pale and clear.
On the bay, waves have their way.
And splash and smash the shore.
Clouds float in a hurry.
It chilled right to the core.
Seasons void of reasons
Minutes drift to hours.
I can’t see beyond the sea.
Or weigh trees heavy boughs.
A new day anathema
Outrage is in the air.
Blowing past the very last
As we stop and stare
©
David Rudder
2023
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