Black peaks in the distance,
crosses burning.
Mysterious women,
veiled in black,
walk ominously silent
as seven cars pass by,
speeding through my mind.

Nature's tears
pierce my tower,
my tower of words...
my soul.

My mind scratched by silence,
bewildered by questions
of who
of where
of when
of how
of why -

Why me?

On the wings of eagles
I soar into the fire...

Smoke (choking me)
hovers
above and about me,
as a motorcycle passes,
blurred by the flame.

Where has she gone?
No longer in sight...

Slowly,
quietly,
like the thousands before her
she finds her way
home.
Deciphering the fire
that burns within her soul...
my heart.

With head to table,
I no longer write.

Black peaks in the distance fade,
the fire dies -

And a poet is silenced.


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