“High and Low”

reed-loved wrists
host twisting hands,
shaded in twitches.

point the teeth,
mawing too and fro.

mutter hyphenated
godly names, where
kingdoms had collided.

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“Indifferent Isles”

these shores have met many ships,
bearing men and women of all walks:
the soldier weighted with metal-memory,
the farmer fleeing continental conflict,
the cross-men clasping golden idols,
the reaver in his longship laden,
the roman with her pointed spear:
Gods have died on these shores,
alongside the celt and the saxon,
the angle, and the norman; all swept
by wind through the broken trees
back to the coasts that once welcomed
indifferently.

“The Valley”

We swept through the valley like wind
rustling over undergrowth and roots,
drinking our fill of air and life and love.

we found that grove of trees,
heard those voices older than words,
felt faces in the bark and salt
on the floor – blood was spilt
long ago, here, for Gods long gone.

once, they’d stood together
on roots drunk with life
once, they’d stood together
against a legion’s love
once, they’d lay together
amidst the burning trees.

from that grove a new emerges,
godless, born of salt and blood
and song: the song’s of bards
born before the wall could crumble.

we found that grove, and many others:
we found and we remember
what chants lived in these boughs,
and what God’s died in them.

“There are Voices”

There are voices that people claim to hear
when the rains start and the nights turn long.

sometimes they give them biblical identities
while others suspect their own subconcious
of tempting them with tantalizing possibilities.
they often find themselves allocated
cushion-lined rooms if they listen too them
too often and too readily; the voice of Gods
is a tricky subject in an empirical world.

“Ruined Halls”

The ruined halls run whispers
in sad circles around me.

The people lost, the names dropped,
called out for a listener.

An age of outcasts outcry
for a justice never meant to come.

A league of liars leap
to pledge a help dishonest.

A tribe of temples tell
a thousand souls to pray.

but every voice means nothing.