Journeyman Poem by Poet Dragon

Fists smashing glass into billions of bits of glittering dust,
wandering dust,
blowing lightly upon the breeze of my breath,
I inhale it in wonder and feel warmth.
My lungs shredded quietly and cleanly,
the warmth inside me spreads,
Slowly it is easier to realize that I am dying,
I am going home.
Glimmering evanescent starscapes floating by me,
like dreams of a thousand lakes reflecting the sky,
I am floating away from the warmth,
The coal grows dim and then blackens
The fire douses itself in the wind.
Firefly light twinkles in the weeping willows reaching out over the
pond.
A fish jumps from the tranquil waters and snaps up one of the lights
It is gone forever.
The ripples fade away, and silence rules the night but for the crickets
Where the moon shows its face in the water, there is peace.
Now there is an alien landscape.
Tall, rocky buttes topped with vibrant green grass
tower high above svelt around them
lowing caterpillars the size of boulders graze languidly
among the tall grasses.
The sunlight is dim, like twighlight,
and a cool breeze runs havoc across the waving plains
There is a controlled chaos of buzzing insects
and the smell of honeyed jasmine and cinammon
wafting in the refreshing atmosphere
Twin towers of water tumble gracefully to their doom
on the broken shards of diamond below.
Far out to the east the landscape rolls
and tall grass grows among the occasional oak.
To the west, the canopy of a temperate forest stretches
whatever there is of beauty contained within
is hidden by the low fog that clings to the roots of the trees
and spreads just far enough to touch the borders of the hills
A solemn day the sun rises upon and is not seen
Clouds like looming parents to a guilty child, clutter the sky
They let loose their tears upon the people
gathered beneath a patchwork of umbrellas
They are not dry, nor could they be
Because they are crying their own tears
to match those of the gray behemoths above.
Four growling, lumbering graces preceed him
shrouded in manes, their faces masked in morning shadows
The morning has just broken the hold of the night
and the lingering cold slips slowly away
Bent trees with flat tops are strewn across the savannah
And lounging within the closest is a single cheetah
Daniel stands with his pride and smiles at the new day
even knowing that the wonder cannot last
He smiles
A single lonely tree stands high atop the hill
behind it, setting slowly,
the sun casts the trees shadow onto the walls of the city
A single cross stands lonely on the hill
A single empty cross
Fluttering wings of lace keep her tiny body aloft.
Her hair shines the color of fire and her body glows
The moonlight filtering through the canopy touches lightly upon her
legs
and her body glows in the shadows.
On the floor of the forest an inch, a body length below her
a ring of skullcaps and moss
sits next to a small flowing stream
There is no breeze, no wind,
only the smell of honeysuckle and roses mingled with
the smell of loam.
A man lying prone beneath a thin veneer made of newsprint
struggles for a moment to sit up and wake
His emaciated form opens its sunken eyes and glances
at the grafitti on the walls, at the stains on the ground
at the tromp of feet stomping past on their way
to the end of their journey.
He lies down and smiles, as he finishes his own.


-Taken from 'A dialogue of Long, Rambling Shadows'
by Poet Dragon