Arise, the Shades Come…

The rain runs its tracks,
Shadows hold their place,
What transcendent refractive ease,
Soaking each deficient mirage
With simple phantasms,
We wait to see the murder,
The floods of a new year,
Some falter with banks burst,
Trapped in the churn of self dominance,
Horizons glimmer, it is urge,
Betrayals transferred,
And we sink, inflicting symmetry,
Sink too far, too fast,
Syndicate and synergy,

Tubular hopes, chiming time,
The fields leak grey against the months
We callously feel the force,
Lamented and coarse,
Emergence pushes and we flew,
Structuring, foaming,
Recanting the requiem
Where the blackbird soars,
Ascending above us,
And more than the shadows
In which we relish discovery,
Did you see the murder
From where the rains run?
Casting the tracks
In similarity and fade.

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Poem © Phen Weston 2014

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