Equinox Poetry
Added 2017-07-24 08:30:18 +0000 UTC
Winter Sun
Basking in you feels so cold,
Wind runs in and out my nose
As the air is tight on my lungs,
Breathing at mercies so weary,
The watery abyss below closing,
Closing in as a swamp forms in
My tired mind.
But ironic are the feelings
In my heart: as you dim,
As you grow old and shine less,
I feel closer to you, closer as
You come down: hearth, it so
Feels, like you’re a pyre, like
The flames in a campfire.
Soothing is your winter light,
No more harsh and cancerous,
No more arrows to my head.
And yes, I do feel more sickly.
But my body matters ever so little,
When I think of grandfatherly things,
Of bedtime stories and orange flames,
Kind as the old friend outside, witness
Of at least two decades of my life.
Summer Sun
I hear battle cries,
In my head loud songs, in so fickle
A tone, so dire and
Tenebrous, yet my
Heart wants to join in, sing and
Applaud, scream and shout.
I feel my soul changing,
Soft features of down now sharp,
Metallic a gleam,
My black eyes now gold,
My patron in my etched, wings ready
To soar to the battle
Occurring below me,
Not to engage in bloodshed,
But because you’re there.
I’m now a singer,
Ballads of light and fire, just
To woo whom I love.
