
Angels
If you were going to read a poem
What would you want it to be?
Calm like a ray of light
An epic of destiny?
There is a light that glides
Across a wooden floor
A cosmic messenger
Translating stars
Through dust
Astronauts know
A new age has begun
It doesn’t move, this light, but for the world
Spinning slowly
At my feet
A new age has begun
Though
There is darkness still in the wood
Its curves are like ribs
Curled into knots
Flat
Time was it was a tree
A nipple, a leaf
If you were going to live a life
What would you want it to be?
A passage through your time
A shifting of the sea?
Into the night it glides
The shuttle soars
A cosmic messenger
Rocketing us
Among the stars
The explosion will ring out for years
Angels in the sunlight, outside my window play
Their world has been turning
All this time
Declaration
The motion of my child
The breathing of time
Light at angles comes
Over her shoulder
There is a penetrating glance
Her eyes can see
Years ahead she can’t define
But for a shape in darkness
Curve the hourglass, infinity
Curve the horizon
Mountains, glazing sky
Opening a new direction
This motion of her breathing
Is the motion of the sea
The turning of her glance
Is the focusing of a lens
She says her soul is a waterfall
She says it’s time that we take it all
So the drumline comes
Higher
The mind of my child
Is no one’s property
Her eyes
Will see
If you are nailed by her glance
You were some kind of demon
But no more
You are now awakened
Knives of grass, of the sun
Swords of light, with angels come
Her world has been turning
All this time
The Window
There is a glass wall in my prison
Through which the sunlight comes
Red and blonde
Blushing sky
Do anything you will to me
Torture me
Dehumanize
And I will have but one reply
Thank you for the window
I don’t speak to my captors
They are not alive
They have no ears
They have no eyes
I speak only to the sky
I see only this window
Though my body is encaged
My love a parting dream
And the world a child’s toy
I fly
With the bauble of the sun my soul will rise
Reaching In
I open my eyes and it is like the sun
This hand
Fingers rays
Reaching in like there’s a hole in my chest
Light passes right through me
Or how do you explain my shadow?
We usually cannot see
The entirety of the line
Circles, we see blades of grass
This hand
Fingers rays
Touching upon my heart
Or how do you explain this warming?
There are things between
The two sides of a line
Infinity, we see blades of grass
I open my eyes and you are like the one
This girl
Eyeballs blaze
Coming in she burns a hole in the east
Her coat is open clouds
Or how do you explain the color?
We are so often blinded by
Things too large to understand
Idolatry, we’re just blades of grass
This girl
Eyeballs blaze
Threading right back to the start
Across the sky she comes
This hand
Right through the veil she comes
Reaching into me
I watch, then blink
Waking with the sun
Promises
A covenant made between the seed and tree
Is a bridge that links
Activists and change
Godfathers and today
Baton and knee
Blood and stone
Youth and recklessness
Innocent to innocent
Toes and knee
Thigh and eye
Imagination and fortune
A vow kissed by the day
Never fades
We can walk like men on earth
Plow fields, give birth
Live in peace, cosmonauts
Love in peace, astronauts
Leaves bent, resilient
Bark strong, on a long limb
Give heifers to indigenous
People
The promise made by the leaf to the bird
Is a bridge
It carries the pain of distance
The confusion of home
Distraction of dreams
Abstraction
Of the palpable
Thick blood
The promise made by the wing to the day
Is that we are here
Silhouetted in the light
It’s the word given by the preacher
To the lie
The politician to the grave
Scientist to anarchist
Child to policeman
Blood and stone
Innocent and innocent
Toes and knee
Thigh and eye
Bruised soul
A vow kissed by the day
Never fades
And we are here
So like the seed to the heavens
We are made and so will rise
About the Creator
River Alison
An irredeemable, head-in-the-clouds visionary, River Alison loves metaphor, meaning and poetry. From Science Fiction and Horror to Economics and Climate Change, he blends genres and styles as the muse fits.



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