How can agony be bound in such sweet
Flesh? Not agony of death, but life? How
Fare soul lost from depthless-wine; time ... retreat.
Flee, faintness, from my heart; I choose to vow.

Slow, my thoughts, on grape-dark days, slow to grow
My blinded mind. Now, waken, from lands tomb!
Awake you, vine, to find your kind, bestow
Your ripeness, don’t give up on life! For doom…

I vow to hide not from essence … belief
Seems key to opening time. I believe,
World! Sweet green seas -- wisdom’s uncorked relief --
Soothe glass-shard mind... Gently; hold filter's sieve,

And pour my spirit through the wines of Man,
Distilling brazen flavors – such I am.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 8/23/04