Reborn a poet
and then set free
To live beyond wealth
—and majesty
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
The Fountain
If you ask me to read,
I’ll say only the good
—in spite of what others might think
Once your blood has been spilled,
and the cut is deep
—my task to heal, not push to drug or to drink
If the pain is too great,
my heart you may take
—as I suture you back from the brink
From this deepest of wounds
that I surround and embrace, as a fountain
—where you may now drink
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
What Darkness Brings
Twilight falls onto my
windowsill
Demon fire in full
retreat
The stars return
glowing embers that burn
In whose radiance
an Angel will sleep
Days grip is unchained,
the cantor sings while he prays
As the chorus cries out
“It’s unplugged”
The sun has now left
with my hopes not bereft
Only the night
—points to heaven above
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)