When the spear of God
pierces the heavens above,
all the world is still.

With just a few words,
your whole world can come crashing
down on top of you.

Your name on my lips
is sweeter than honey but
doesn’t last as long.

Voices speak to me
whispering, shouting, taunting…
There is no release.

Winter is so cold
that shards of starlight break and
drift into the day.

Though you have fallen
you cannot help but rise up
like a heavy cream.

In the winter months,
the earth is a sleeping bear
who dreams of the spring.

Angels and demons:
beyond the world and yet still
enamored with it.

There is no white noise:
it’s a cacophony of
pandemonium.

Next generation,
whether nature or nurture,
we’re responsible.