wolves // House of Heart

 In the state between sleep and wake

traversing birth and death

there is the faintest hint of earthy candles

macabre dreams interrupted by the

strophe of sonnets, a sensation of

spilling pearls like tiny moons falling

through my open palm.

At the boundaries I find you

not your spirit or rose tinged snow

but flesh and bone.

I am sleeping less now

roused by the wing beats of boreal owls

circling an ancient Cypress,

their knife edge talons entwined in sprays

of silky moss clinging to knotty branches.

Fitful wind gusts burst through barriers of

creaking walls vibrating my hemispheres into

consciousness. A celestial tapestry of recollection

lifts me over the valley to a moonlit hillside

of sweet lea where a silver wolf lies down beside me.

He is the scent of golden wheat and

his eyes are the color of the eastern sky.

Source: // House of Heart
Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News here: https://t.me/SterlingPublishingPanel and all our posts, links can be found at here Live Feeds https://acenewsroom.wordpress.com/ and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts as a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews