Ariadne's Thread

Little Star

impulse to affection

one last left, this dire recollection

feed first, born one last

is not offering, your love

i beseech thee, and hopeful wander

that one so candid, forthright

as eyes will please

with this, one and only so true

hold your head, now, as time cradles itself

in moonlites passing arms, it is these words

now, i search, identity is not

black by your birth, so i am told

or as the wind may blow, with heralds

deep, with effervescent song

upon the winds do they ride

bringing the cries, of a little lamb

to the lands around, to the ears of others

never so held, or touched, by a infant smile

my heart does hear, you may not see me

or never, ever come so near, as ever will ever

but time lashes out, and grabs what enemies it can

enemies who would seek, to destroy

gods angels, in this new and foreign land

hold tight, and ebb with uncertainty

for it is trust, trust with what not is there

a truth you shall find, in love, in peace

another's divinity held tight

in the blankets of tomorrow