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The Anthill Ashes

When life lies down
on the song of a bird
The resurrection
returns my name
And I break
the brakes of senses
To taste
the steady pain

My cross is nailed
into me
I pity the fingers
that scourge my face
The minutes
hurry the hours
The hours
hurry the days

The loyal faces
approach
And run along
with every summer
Beside the flooded feet
of love
The hardened lives
are turning numb

Between my feet
against the wind
My words will cascade
through the strife
But if inside my eyes
you see the flying geese
The ropes will pause
the next worn life

The seasoned time
has buried signs
And swings like a branch
above a lost sandal
I step inside
the ant hill ashes
Becoming new
and larger ant hill

 Father Forgive Them

Oil on canvas, Age 9 (2004)
 48" x 60"
Original & Prints Available





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