MontagfireThe stars, shining, hanging high over our heads,
why are they crying?
The stones on our backs nestling between the cracks
but for how long?
Tide pulls the warm blood, beating.
The sea tugs the anchors, rusting
Hurricanes can't blow me down.
Cocooned from winds, long enough to emerge,
strong and true again.
A new directiomn, magenetised I chase the north.
South pulls harder.
Tracking prints in new snow hunting.
Lost in woods, dangerous, daunting.
Hurricanes can't blow me down.
Eyes fail, head frail, knocking at the door of faith
with no answer.
Stand tall, stone wall hurricanes cannot blow me down
anymore.
suttonnick
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