Crowded Horizon

the sickening sky,
blur of iridescent harpies in their nests
chewing cloudbank fat
the lightest splash of lightning in between,

my sky,
the weight of all that is,
my legacy that looms,
where I can catch but instants
of whole lives that play
these entrances of grey,
that cannot be contained but for
a word, a shade,
in layers of this cloud
that strains its purple hues,
too beautifully stricken
to move its spirals through

a sky that unifies,
in our knowing that the passage will be clear
whatever mysteries turn back on us,
fears must give way
to emptiness
all sheers must lose themselves
to the dance
of transformation;

the roving blots
almost translucent
fold away,
taken by fingers of blue