WL Schuett

Edge of the Wind

and I refused 

I needed to manifest destiny 

I was a seeker awaiting his message 

the shadows know the secrets of the hawks eye 

 

born to ravaged avenues in 

a lust filled fort in Eden 

lost in the hell of Revelations

where the breast of the law began 

 

She lowered the timbre 

of her voice 

right to the edge of 

the wind 

she nurtured her prayers 

over her art 

she had so much hard earned 

guilt to rescind 

 

refusing to embrace 

true freedom 

though 

lovely and rare 

there is no sure footing 

in the darkness of the forest 

still so many questions 

lost in the book of prayer 

 

somewhere in in my journey 

there is a door left ajar 

an unexpected staircase 

leading me to what I seek 

listening for my message 

in the darkness of the forest 

in the dream of a flowers secret 

in the stillness of broken raindrops 

in the shattered book of Friday’s prayers

in the beautiful promise that was Eden 

in the eye of the Hawk in the Bloodmoon 

in the quiet miracle of loves embrace 

 

yet, I refused to be born again 

and I left , 

to listen to the edge of the wind