Forsaken

The air walks pigeon-toed  
cushioned feline steps careful  
of opening her orange kimono
 
Smoldering hair melts, unfurls  
her talcum-powdered face  
hiding a bone-dried Truth
 
Hypnotizing, her air of being  
a Geisha'd invitation from the cold
to the ‘masque of the red death’
 
You describe her as graceful –
shark-like in a murky forest of glassine  
a specular reflection assailing Life
 
Through shifts of optical illusion
your lips bleed against her appetite  
for the offspring of ancient seed
 
Your skin bakes protecting heritage
against her tsunami of greed –
intercessions call upon the Universe
 
Nature sits, manicures her nails  
the switchboard continues to ring -  
crucified mountains cry out
 
"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?"
~
 
 
 
 
Author's note: Thanks to everyone for their continued prayers (and allowing me to write it out). I can't explain what these mountains mean to me. It couldn't hurt any worse if it were my own house burning down. Because, it is.  The fires are 30% contained now;  however, they are expecting high winds tomorrow. The bone-dry conditions and drought make it fertile ground for the flames. Pray for our mountains. Pray for rain. Pray for those working around the clock to contain the flames.