~ Peace, Peace They Say,  ~

~ Then Cometh Sudden Destruction  ~

Bloody Summer

I walked in silence through the pristine forest of yesterday,

I challenged the unknown of tomorrow without thought of my way.

I crept along slowly with the fog which clung fast to the forest ground.

And I watched as the shadows passed sleeping

 from a cool silver moon which was by heaven bound.

How sharp and thin were these shadows sweeping

 yet still soft like that of a baby’s whisper which has yet to be found.

In the distance the lone whippoorwill in its nocturnal fever called out his mournful tune.

And the smell of confederate jasmine signaled sweet the coming of summer soon.

I then heard it… the echoes of a thousand teardrops falling

falling soft and gently creasing the almost silent forest floor

I stood still as if unto a stone, and I watched in bewilderment

as the weeping angels of revelation came unto me

 to prepare my spirit for what the future had in store.

I balked at first and cast a pragmatist doubt to their surrealist plea.

 Yet I acquiesced reluctantly to their demand as the forest turned to sea.

There I spied dark clouds of desperation looming on a far and distant shore,

They were clouds like no other to which mine eyes had ever seen before.

I saw many things dire as these clouds rose forth of angry repute

I withdrew as they formed themselves into luminescent menageries of a coming doom.

I watched in mindless horror as hundreds of headless gulls marched in formation

I closed my eyes as they walked across the dunes of a blackened and scared nation.

I turned now my thoughts to and fro, from the land to the open sea

and I erupted into tears of repentant sorrow

 as the sand turned red like blood beneath my feet.

I then fell like a cool rain down to the scarred and bloody ground

I tried to hide myself and bury my face in the moist red sand,

for of these things of tomorrow which I did see, I failed sorely to understand.

Now as the summer nears, so does this approaching fear.

Yet I shall not be overcome by the events of the coming day,

for even I in all my weakness, even I have never forgot how to pray.

J. Allen Wilson © Six 2006