Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

in the marvelous distance
the stars poke their pin pricks of light
through the wilderness of space

the midnight poem chugs along
in some kind of cosmos text
blinking on and off in jibberish
neon

hanging there in eternity
calling all the lost poets
to the last chance dance

a great gathering of galactic leaves
come rolling in thunderheads of sign
the glow of a vein of gold on black
awakens a ghost chaos in the breath

leaving the road behind in the mirror
a lost and found memory rides out
on the war paint of the sky
on the feather of a creaking empty door

on the edge of nowhere and forever
smoking the dust of silence in a word
left there between the ravine of feeling
and the crevasse of shouting blood

and the roar of the opening through
which death answers the questions
through which the cry of the hawk
in the vast canyon comes with blue

the spirit shape in the wind window
turns around and around with song
the voice waits in the shadows so long
the voice waits in the shadows so long
waits in the shadows
so long

thank you