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A The Widest Scope.

tpu 31 Mar 2017 Tag: Cycle 2 comments, leave your own..


Father from father,

Spoken through fire and smoke,
many tales I know.

Taller than the tallest oak,
wiser than the eldest folk.


Mother from mother,

Blood from blood, bone from bone,
aeons' fields be sown.

Deeper than the darkest tone,
wider than the widest scope.

Ashes to ashes.
to what ends we go.

Colder than the coldest cold,
feeless as stillborn hope.


Words: 66 / Updated: 31 Mar 2017 / © Copyright

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1 Recent Comments

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ButcherBenji 1 year, 5 months ago New Comment

This has been a great inspiration for me in this year of appreciating the cold a whole lot more than before. I get much from the riddlesome nature of how you choose your words and this one couldn't have been placed at a better time. These long, cold seasons have toughened me up again, and your poetry always classes up any joint. Thank you muchly for the posting.

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Asomatous 1 year, 6 months ago New Comment

As with much of your work this has the feel of some old Nordic tale or legend. This one feels like a riddle but the answers are all there. Like the voice of the cold wind giving its thoughts on humankind. Chilling.

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