Black White Light

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Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance

One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear

Crocus, then

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If we grant winter steal our bare shoulders
Shutter our hearts, deny our eyes open windows
Who then, of what mettle, would we be?

If not sun-filled and and mocking the chill
I should prefer my soul exiled
Some dark side of a most unearthly moon

Windward

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There was ev’ry bit the beautiful breeze
The wind in their hair bore the proof

Sweet and temperate
And on occasion, when circumstances necessitated,
Such as each bygone day and now and the ‘morrow,
Fierce

As abandonment, windward or leeward
Sets a compass mark true, does it not?

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Dealings

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Glory and all that is possible
Grasping
Heaven prolonged
Just an arm’s length away
Talk with me fierce as you will
Tho’ all the more fierce I will bid you
Thence stay