Deaths Projections Poem by David Lacey

When the heavens change, stars re arrange themselves
Upon the blanket sky. From the hollows of the mountain comes
The herald of Our Mother, tears frozen in her eyes.

The destruction of Eden
Is the deconstruction of the soul
Without our mother natures nurture
How can we ever come to grow?

I’m not here to represent
That which has already been presented
In the form of Our Lady the Earth.

Eden weaves the summer leaves
As brothers green breathe in life anew.
Summers gone, the Autumn come
There’re no more skies of mellow blue.
With Winter comes crisp virgin snow
Capping the valleys height.
Summers gone, it’s been too long
It’s still so far out of sight.
From deaths projections bend the expectations
Of a shadow shifting in moods.

The greatest irony man has ever known is to deny his creation
By use of a will that hath grown as it hath flourished through the years.