Bearers of power live from the surface
skin deep
the only measure of dominance.
Too many die in the shadow
of their sun spared wrappings
Of hate by exclusion
Of what matters in black.
Prayer
startled wakened in a scream
threatened breath
strangled dream
yet i lay me down again
a soul to keep
from terror ends
finding morning’s choir of love
hymns of peace
with eyes of God.
photography alexander yakovlev
The Beast
I saw the Beast who bolted
through my safely tucked repose
and I heart racing with breath catching
awaken, now exposed.
Was he there from set of sun, joined in this space I slept?
Did I so warm this nightly Beast within my bed caressed?
I alone will wonder now as dusk blows through to day
what creature comfort darkens night and lays me down, I pray.
