Treasure Hunters

“Arise, cry out in the night…Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children, who faint from hunger at the head of every street.” – Lamentations 2:19

Oppressor and oppressed,
Hunter and hunted,
May appear unalike. Indeed, they are.
But surface appearances
Are harder to distinguish
In dark of night,
When vibrant colors of
Royalty and wealth
Fade into commoners’ blues and greys,
Leveling the rich and poor, adult and child,
The sick and the well.
And all are finally forced to admit
The only treasure worth seeking
Is the future.

-st

Dreamscape.

After dark, your real self rises,
slips on midnight’s cloak.
This self can do everything
the daytime you is afraid of.

One night, full moon
riding a galleon sky,
maps a star path,
to show another you.

You mount a milk white charger,
gallop out across galaxies,
plunge and land, hoof-sure
on cool waiting sand.

There another you waits,
crouched and secretive,
mining something small
and furtive,a treasure, hidden.

You turn to face yourself,
here is courage, you had it all along,
there beyond far flung light, you stand –
reassembled, like grains of sand.

-Ali Jones

Tattooing the Sky

She rides into the falling darkness,
tattooing the sky with her fierce voice,
spreading a song of courage
that grows out of her bones,
takes root in the cadence of her heart.
She is a mother cradling you
in the warmth of the moon,
a sister who holds your hand
until you no longer feel afraid,
a friend who makes you laugh
with your whole body.
She belongs to the stars,
carries the fire of them in her belly.
When fear is a rampage that travels
in the hands of a virus over the earth,
she is the music that unites us,
the poetry that reminds us we are brave.

-Susan Richardson

Horse race

=======================

Gallop, my friend, gallop.
Those stars are waiting;
they beam & invite to a world
where light is currency. The
heaven is around the corner.
Jump over the stone walls,
trek through the rocky Alps.
Gallop, my friend, gallop.
Don’t stop to assist anyone.
No free rides, no empathy.
Water break is a luxury and
rest is a waste of time.
Gallop, my friend, gallop.
Every wound is a tattoo;
it shall re-iterate your tale
of pride and valour.
Yes, we will eat but only
after crossing the rivers &
swimming the oceans.
Trust me, you will not die.
You won’t die of exertion
& even if you do, you will
be a martyr; not a coward.
Gallop, my friend, gallop.

-Jay Gandhi

In A Grain Of Sand

flowerless worlds warm
under her sandals.
Some snick between
her toes rasp

her soft skin with their roll,
as they orbit her ridges

Among

the world’s she sees suddenly
two galaxies,
one white, one black.
Nestle in a bowl of planets

and then a snort

behind makes her turn
a rearing white mare
and its angry rider
shouts at her

stop disturbing worlds
with your feet, put down
The two galaxies.

And suddenly a flower is heaven.

She walks in a desert
where every grain of sand
is a world,
Her worlds are a desert.

Her turning worlds make
the horses ground so unsafe
the rider is thrown.

Her planets fill his mouth
and he drowns.

-Paul Brookes

The Prophetess

Ahmar Moonblood Nebulosah,
For intelligence and endurance famed ;
Pureblood,
down twenty generations,
Haughty but unwise.

Rears at sight of Sidewinder’s horns,
Its diamond back
promises pain ;
Painfully enflamed lameness ;
and then desertion.

The Governess
Part jailer, part teacher
Traditional disciplinarian.
She who withdraws priveleges
like an Indian giver.

The Prophetess
Discovered, kneels
Head, a billion blanketed stars
Supplicant hands, ingrained.

-John Wolf

Bios and links

-Jane Cornwell