The Brazen Bard
Expeditions are risky.
Moonflowers unfold
beauty into darkness
from which stanzas of our lives
flow down the page.
Or not. Much too can be said
in a short haiku.
Or what follows may hollow
that first line which knows not
steps to be taken, nor conclusions.
Over-confident poets may unlock
unexpected vulnerability
as they grasp for meaning,
fortunate if they finally
understand the question,
and dig free some deeper truth
to dangle mid-utterance,
threat to convenient resolution.
Do I scribe these lines
or does Mystery wield
the pen that inks my days?
And if it is some God,
what has she discovered
about herself?
©2020 Kenneth W. Arthur
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