the sabers are awake..
a deep gleam of light gushes in thru the grey abandonment
sighted in the panorama.. is a veil
the shadows are clear…the form isn’t
the glint is visible…the color isn’t
the walk to it isn’t distant
the search for it isn’t unending..
then why the conspiracy of the feathered and the fawn
to not hoot even at the onset of dawn
is it the sabers…or just the wilderness..
or just the crossroads of ambiguity…
never to decide what lies ahead,and never to guide to what’s true
hope is not forsaken, cuz,
trickling down and seeing thru the veil,
is a handful of sparkle..
the veil conceals it within
yet, it reveals all..
is it the conscience
is it the soul
or is it…just me