Throne

The glamour of your powerful peak
So entices me to summit your mountainous throne,
And impels me to journey up
Your twisted trail.

I am welcomed with encouraging breezes and
Luscious moss, and
The flowers gossip over my
Foreign footprints.

Yet as I near your
Majestic peak
I am greeted with a
Glacier like glare as the
Air nibbles at my ears and
Bullies my nose.
You prohibit even common trees to
Enjoy your highness,
Reigning over your powerless citizens:
Your blindly faithful flowers and
Your helpless rocks.
Your brilliant berries and
Your simple stream.

With the view you hold
Possibility kneels at the base of your peak.
Befriend the beauty of
Wisdom.

Broken Peace

With anxious apathy
and a Soothing shadow,
my Green walls stare at
Me,
Waiting with
blank ignorance,
blinking with wonder.
Oh, child you are
untouched by wisdom,
unscathed by worry,
yet tarnished with the
scratch of play and
tickled by the twilight that
peaks through my window.
These empty walls,
uncorrupted by reason,
Yearn for the grace of a
Friend.
So I steal a wooden
Piece from my desk,
Grasp it in my tough palm.
She speaks to me
in a language I long
to understand.
She whispers
“Shalom”
In the depths of
My hand.
Like a lullaby
the words possess
my ears, and
imprison my mind.

With clumsy fingers
I hurry to help her to the
Window sill throne.
Oh, nurturer of the hopeful,
Oh, burden of the not,
You bear the end of the now
And the dawn of an
Unreachable Sun.

And then,
My arrogant hand
Drops the delicate
Wooden word,
And I watch as
She breaks in two.
Foolish am I to
Believe that her
Prescence would yet shine.
Only a child,
Wishful and naïve
Could truly think that
Peace
Will Succeed.